{moments}:

After 7 years, I moved. You're invited. (schmoments.blogspot.com)

2011-04-15T19:15:00.002-05:00

building stairs @ deep ellum

Well, I guess this is goodbye. And hello.

I began this blog in 2004 as a way to track my fitness. You guys surprised the shit out of me by becoming, instead, one of the most important tools in my spiritual development. We became for reals friends. We rode out illnesses, marriages, divorces, babies, deaths and spiritual awakenings. We became friends outside of the blogging world. We sent each other real live mail. Texts. Calls. Facebook messages. I wrote for you sometimes. And I know that sometimes, you wrote for me.

I was like a hungry caterpillar who didn't know she was hungry, and you spiritually fed me. I ate. I grew. You fed me. I grew. I fully believed I was on my way to become the best caterpillar I could be.

In something like 2009, though if I really consider it, probably years earlier, a cocoon began to form around me. Instead of comforting and safe, it felt terrifying and bleak.

I became very ill for about two years. From lab work and MRI's, dr's could see some stuff was really wrong, but no one seemed to know why or how to make it better. Most of the details so took over my existence that I never want to discuss them again; the worst of it was that for awhile, I I couldn't even take my students on field trips, drive or stay alone. B was my rock. He took care of me when I could not take care of myself, which was most of the time. I was so dependent on him that I would have nightmares of something happening to him.

When I happened to be at my worst physically, his sweet mom called us to say she had non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. And it was Stage 4. It was time for B to take care of someone else.

When he went to KC to care for his mom during her first treatment, we flew my own mom in to help take care of me. She complained of abdominal pains.

About six weeks later, she appears to be 7 months pregnant. A cancerous tumor has rapidly grown on her ovary, they tell us. Turns out, it is also non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. Two moms in two months. They feel it is inoperable.

I email my truly amazing therapist of seven years to draw support. So much of my life had been changed because of her, but like my relationship to B, I suspected I was probably overly dependent. In fact, when I moved to Dallas, I panicked about my inability to leave her. I begged her to continue our sessions via Skype, which we did. This time, return correspondence includes that she has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and will no longer be seeing patients. "I'm sorry that you are being hit with three cancers," she said. "I want you to know that you're very special to me."

I always thought there was something secretly spiritual lingering beneath the professional relationship between a therapist and client.

She later died.

My caterpillar body, life as I knew it, seemed to be dissolving.

Desperate, I bought an 800 dollar juicer and began pretty religiously following Gerson Therapy. I began to finally gain strength physically as I watched other parts of my life slip away.

Reaching for any access to inner strength, I paid what felt like a gazillion dollars to learn Transcendental Meditation. B went as well.

Many amazing things happened after this. Both of our moms went into remission. I got better, physically, little by little. I even lost about sixty pounds. I seemed to find my body's recipe for happiness; most importantly, I learned that what she says goes, no questions. Oddly, for Bruce and I, meditating was the beginning of the end. Maybe the old us' didn't have the sense of infinity to let go of what needed to be released?

The relationship was easy to release at first; the unbearable parts came later, when I realized how long he had been miserable, waiting for me to push the Eject button. B and I had been like two friends who picked one another from the Catalog Of Intellectually Defendable Decisions to be life partners. We realized that as far as love goes, that catalog sucks.

Another version of me, shed. Am I the same person, I wondered? Am I who I planned to be at all? Am I the same chick who had a soon-to-be doctor husband and a baby plan?

broken open @ deep ellum

I have no plan.

I'm a chick who busted out of a cocoon. I don't know what's next, but I know it will be perfect for whatever it is. I'll be here: schmoments.blogspot.com

Namaste,
Faye

3/30: Playing it small?

2010-09-10T23:52:00.001-05:00

morning coffee spot two: ghettoasis trash waterfall ambience + coffee + books

"There is no passion to be found playing small- in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living...And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same." -Nelson Mandela, '93 Nobel Peace Prize Speech

Something I can thank Alanon for is the filling in of many of the gaps in my spirituality so that I have the faith to wait for answers to appear spontaneously, unfolding in perfect time. Earlier today, an answer revealed itself regarding a relationship in my life which has changed. It occurred to me at once how I often played it small in an attempt to keep the boat steady. And isn't it usually about fear? I read a quote recently about change being scary because we know what we're giving up, but we don't know what we're getting.

A catalyst for my mini-realization seemed to be reading a truly beautiful, inspirational blog entry of a friend of mine:

"Hear ye, hear ye, I’ve resigned my sovereign reign over tiny kingdoms, no longer bound by my own self-imprisonment. With nothing left to numb me, got me thinking/wondering – Am I even still the same me? I know this is true: I feel full and I fully feel."

I've denied the magnificence of the universe, the collective, infinite, source, God, many times to impose the will of my tiniest self, of my tiny kingdom. Our smallest selves will take what we can get, because we have a sense of poverty. Our infinite selves know that poverty is an illusion, and so is net loss. Our infinite selves have permission to shine brightly and unapologetically, and to be the first one in the room to light up, if need be; isn't it true that that high vibration consciousness is contagious anyways? "We give others permission to do the same."

Today, I am grateful for feeling full and fully feeling.

2/30: Here Comes The Sun

2010-09-09T22:24:00.000-05:00

‎"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."
Henry David Thoreau

In a lot of ways, I feel like I've recently woken up (or am waking up) from a long, maybe two-decades long, waking sleep.

It was my winter. A time of dormancy.

Even in winter, the seeds hidden beneath the layers of snow and frozen ground are no shorter on potential, patiently waiting for their due time. Perfect, perfect due time. And everything's a paradox anyways, isn't it, when we consider the illusory nature of a linear experience. Nothing is liner. The seed and the grown tree take up the same space. Enlightenment and ignorance. Love and hate. Break it down: sameness.

I can sense the sun coming; but, it's always been here.

Today, I can feel it's warmth. Like, in a girly drink with an umbrella kinda way.

1/30: feelings aren't emergencies

2010-09-08T22:07:00.008-05:00

my partner teacher's abacus

So, I took on a 30 day blogging challenge. It's day one, and I am under the weather, but I'm still showing up. I dig a blogging challenge, and it's been a long while since I've indulged in the social part of blogging. I remember the days of Creative Every Day and Self Portrait Challenge. Aw.

I've not been quite myself for a couple of weeks now. It really comes down to taking exceptional self-care; time to get back on the bandwagon. The Faye recipe for health and happiness seems to be Transcendental Meditation + daily exercise + sleep. Add a little green juice and a lot of gratitude. The meditation went first, and the gratitude went last. So, let's work backwards: I'll stop whining by way of raising my vibration to the tune of gratitude. And then so on.

I'm so grateful...

-That acceptance is the answer to all of my problems today- that I don't need to solve how I feel in this moment. For today, I can let it be, and I'm so glad I know that.

-That I finally get that feelings are not emergencies. I don't need to *do* anything besides nothing. Talk about liberation.

-That when I pray to be surrounded by full of light people, the universe just responds and responds and responds.

-To hang out with kids all day.

-To be surrounded in nature.

-For my connection with God, however heatheny my version of God might be to someone else. My connection with God has been absolutely transformed over the past year, especially the past two or three months. I'm dumbfounded.

-That abundance is abundant.

-The love is the only truth.

Lately, whenever I feel a sense of or a worry of poverty about something (afraid of not having enough or of losing what I have), I take that moment to reflect on how that particular thing (money, time, love) is already abundant in my life and to pray about more. I'm amazed by the power of prayer, and I kinda can't believe I'm saying that.

in the dew of little things

2010-09-06T20:56:00.002-05:00

grateful for this view.

From The Prophet.

On Friendship: Because I'm feeling very blessed.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

grandpa penis?

2010-08-03T10:13:00.002-05:00

Yup. Grandpa penis. Latest google search to find my blog. Things are really going down hill around here.

my new girlfriend: Lily Allen

2010-08-02T17:55:00.000-05:00

my new boyfriend: Shakespeare

2010-07-25T19:48:00.008-05:00

I'm watching the BBC "Shakespeare Retold" series on Netflix. Tonight, I watched the "Much Ado About Nothing" episode.
Much to the dismay of old, more romantically pragmatic Faye, these days I'm feeling secretly hopeless romantic-y. Whaa? AND I'm on a dating moratorium. For who knows how long. I have decided to date Shakespeare for a bit; because, I'm nerdy like that.
I was never the girl who dreamily imagined my wedding day or had lots of crushes on boys. I was terrified, since before I ever dated, of losing myself in relationships. For reals; I was the youngest cynic ever.
Love. Love. Love. Who knows what's real and what isn't real out there; I'm not sure what I believe in these days, and I guess it's not time to know. "More will be revealed," I am often being told these days. Wisdom. And so maybe stuff like this only exists in literature, but I find the words of Beatrice hopeful for the kind of relationship I would secretly one day hope is for reals. Secretly. Maybe. Okay, yes. I duuuunnnno.
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."
- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, 4.1

SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Analysis (from Faye's lurve schema):

I like the analysis below; however, it is my opinion/feeling that, whether over lifetimes or what not, the purpose behind a romantic relationship always becomes complete at some point (probably!). So, I don't know if I could say that the only love that is true is also an ever fixed mark; unless we can say we're talking about love in general and not necessarily romantic love. As hopeless romantic-y as I am, I don't know about forever. It feels presumptuous (for me).

 


Analysis (from Wikipedia):


The poet begins by stating he should not stand in the way of true love. Love cannot be true if it changes for any reason. Love is supposed to be constant, through any difficulties. In the sixth line, a nautical reference is made, alluding that love is much like the north star to sailors. Love should not fade with time; instead, true love lasts forever. When it says "Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom," Shakespeare is saying that love is timeless, and only death can do it part.
The last two lines employ a paradoxical conceit. If there is no such thing as true love, the poet says that neither has he ever written, nor has anyone ever experienced true love. However, because the poem has been written, it means the poet, ultimately, is right about true love.

trying to learn to play this

2010-07-09T18:07:00.000-05:00

shit that scares me: finally being alone.

2010-07-06T15:07:00.006-05:00

(my little sister with our dad's guitar)

And by alone, I mean aloooone. Margaret, are you with me, perhaps? Apparently, I have a Higher Power who will make sure I'm ok as I finally accept the changes in my life. I have threatened to kick some serious ass if this is not true. Not out loud. But for reals- I'm gonna.

Seems like as good a time as any to finally learn to play the guitar. I hope I like it. Everyone in my family seems to play, and it looks fun. Listening to my dad play guitar growing up is among my favorite memories. You know, it occurred to me: for someone who is so passionate about the arts, I've not tried them, really. What's up with that?

p to the owerless = s to the erenity

2010-07-06T07:41:00.009-05:00

(Someone should teach me how to use my Canon Rebel- I kinda like this eerie feel, but I wish I knew how to catch the actual blackbirds. Faye advice window = open.)

Serenity comes and goes.

The aspect of this which leaves me grateful and hopeful is that as my sense of serenity waxes and wanes, my own capacity, or my edge, still advances forward. In fact, the dim light of my waning serenity seems to correlate to the advancement of my emotional frontier.

That’s growth, people.

In education, we refer to Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development. Stay with me- this is so not “yawn.” If I spice it up with my whitegirlfromthecountry urban funk, would that help?! Fo’ shizzle. Fellow constructivism junkies, gather round the campfire…

The Z to the one of Proximal Development. This, playa’ hate-a’, is the place of optimal learning to where we try to steer our children; it could be defined as the particular p to the osition in which one is able to advance only with a bit of scaffolding, or support. Um…gin and juice. Grills. To the window. To the wall…The idea is that then, those particular supports may be removed. The frontier has advanced, and now, the classroom supports you in your new position. And so on, my bitches. Hate the game, hate the game.

The way I explain it to my students, whom I try to train to choose their own difficulty levels, etc., is something like this:

“If you feel a little bit confused, and you have to think hard, try out different ideas or get a bit of help from tools around the room, me or each other- you are in the right place. If you are so confused that you have no idea what you are doing, you need to take a step back- don’t worry! You’ll get there, but not by jumping ahead. If you are doing something that is super easy, you are probably not growing today, and it is time to push yourself.”

(more blurries= why not? a day at work w the iphone. my feet are the grown up ones.)

I had to enter my own emotional Zone of Proximal Development to accept and live out my powerlessness over others and over situations which I do not need to solve, as the universe will reveal and resolve in her own time. For years, I have learned of such concepts from books. I was surprised (mother effing shocked) to find that, in spite of my desperate immersion in literature, I had done a lot of spinning of my wheels; my capacity, without some help, had been tapped out like a trailer park keg of Miller High Life.

Now, I have different kinds of tools- just as the students in my classroom have tools to help them advance. I’ve been living it and immersing in it instead of simply learning about it in books. And, the frontier of my edge- it is advancing. I do not always have a sense of serenity, but I have a sense that something greater than me- an underlying rhythm, a pulse, an evolving and responsive universe- is in guiding this ride with compassion.

It has been terrifying and liberating so far to let go of the power I thought I had; but, the fear is something like a fear of the unknown or even withdrawal from a lifetime of holding on so tight. I know this, because I can sense the paradox: though sometimes afraid, I’ve never felt safer. Or braver. And more than anything: alive again, with the pleasures and pains and courageousness of a life out of hiding. Which, of course, makes me think of Kahlil Gibran's words:

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. -Kahlil Gibran

In other news: After something like six years, I’m moving my blog. Or, at least I have another blog I will probably consider more primary. I might merge the two eventually, and I might keep this one up. I dunno. I’ve realized I want to talk a lot more about scandalousy things that I’m not sure I should put on here- which means I tend to not update here these days. Good scandalous. Not bad scandalous. I just think I’d have a lot more fun if I didn’t feel the need to hold back. I’d be happy to tell ya where I am if you are a girlfriend or an online friend- others, just ask. But be warned: I’m more socially inappropriate than I may have let on.

baby jesus + boxed wine + fedora

2010-05-29T22:43:00.003-05:00

= shit I bought at Target one day. I bet the guy wondered what kind of drunken vigil I was having when I got home. I just couldn't pass up the Baby Jesus candle, and the box of wine is self-explanatory. Okay, I'm much less lushy than I'd like you to believe; but, I do have a goal of having a glass of red a day, and it seems to happen more often when it comes with a convenient-pour spout, straight from the top of my fridge.

Went to an improv show today. It was so dang hilarious that I'm thinking about taking one of their classes. Seems like I'm coming alive from eternal illness and actually being social again, you say? Why yes! It's true! I've set intentions to get to know more people in my community, people who are full of light, and heck if it's not just happening all over the place.

Of course, who can go wrong in Oak Cliff. I love it here. I love the trees and taco stands, creepily fabulous elotes, how everyone has weird glasses (speaking of: WHEN is the Lisa Loeb line coming out?! The website says spring...) and appreciates things like bicycle lanes, small business, diversity.

I'm getting closer every day on my tattoo...I'm thinking something about namaste, infinity, unity, a blackbird(s). Not sure. Margaret says that she is a good person to get my first tattoo with, that I should get it with her this summer. :)

I've gone on a penis moratorium, by the way. If you have a penis and are not a family member or eunich, check back with me in a couple of weeks.

Today, may I live the questions...

fear + impermanence + infinity + trump card

2010-05-23T12:56:00.005-05:00

When I am afraid, it means that I have lost my connection with the truth that I am a part of the infinite, of the unity consciousness of which everything is a part.

What is there to fear when endings are illusory?

I was reminded of this last night when I was meeting with some new Transcendental Meditation friends; I had put out the intention to know more local tm'ers, and of course, the universe ALWAYS responds. Clay is 32. Megan is 31. The fact that we were all in the same place at the same time, all having had the same desire to connect, is notable. We talked about our experiences and transformations since TM, the cycles, the wax and wane of spiritual awakeness- Even some metaphysical freakyness- something I rarely get to swap experiences on.

Later that night, I had a little opportunity to put into practice the beliefs of which I had been reminded. I was spending time with a friend and got my feelings hurt when they ditched for something better. I wanted to grasp at the friendship, for it to be to the other as I saw it. I wanted it to be as close as it had been (in my mind?), enough so that I would not have been the one ditched. Grasping.

Grasp the bubble on the stream because you want it to stay; see that it has disappeared. Grasp because you wish that things you love would not cease to be, or accept the impermanent state of reality. I tend to especially grasp onto circumstances under which I've allowed myself to feel vulnerable. Some of the relationships and situations on which I've grasped have remained, and some are like the bubble.

Impermanence. Herein lies a paradox. Everything is impermanent, like bubbles on a stream, popping in and out of existence; however, in it's more refined state, nothing is impermanent, and everything is infinite. Jobs. Friendships. Marriages. Dessert. All impermanent...in a sense.

I give my Trump Card to infinity- infinite unity and sameness. Everything will fall away, yes; however, in it's essence, nothing falls away at all.

Upon reflection, I realized it doesn't matter that I was not with my friend. My friend and I will always be together, a part of the same unity of which we are all manifested. If the friend drops away completely, if someone I love awakes from this life into another, if I am abandoned by someone I love deeply, if someone doesn't like me or cuts me off: these are the fears of my neurosis, what Eckhart Tolle would call "pain-body." These are the fears of my ego, and they are sometimes easily activated- especially lately, as my consciousness has been preparing to let go of some of these old "pain-body" fears. I swear in yoga the other night, I could sense my ego speaking: "No. No. No. No. No."

Liberation from fears can be a ticket into the present moment.

May I live in the present moment, knowing that any of my ego-fears do not need my attention and can be given to my higher power; in this case, knowing that at the same time, everything will be lost, and nothing important can be lost. May the spaciousness provided by this liberation provide me with presence to really live the moment with gratitude.

the universe is responsive + why I really went to Cuba

2010-05-21T01:03:00.015-05:00

Surrender.

That much, I figured.

I had asked the universe for courage + liberation. Courage to surrender. Courage to really be alive, that is. Liberation from my walls. There are many kinds of living and of love; I was hoping, though I assumed far off, for love which floats in the the messy cytoplasm of vulnerability and ambiguity. Love that takes courage. To be a person who loves courageously, leaning more into intuition and less into the endless box-checking of the prefrontal lobe.

Go to Cuba, the universe whispered into my soul. Six weeks later, I stepped into the balmy Havana air; however, I did not connect this to my impulse for vulnerable, courageous loving. "I'm here to define my convictions," I said. I wanted to know how to be the best possible human to meet the needs in the world which made my heart feel heavy. "Go to the source to define your convictions," I said. "Stand face to face with other people's needs. Immerse. Only then will you know what you really believe regarding your convictions in the face of the world's suffering."

I remember being surprised by my tears in Cuba. One long walk along the Malecon, from my friends' home back to the pre-revolution art deco hotel, my tears were hot and angry. I had not been prepared for the thick, gray, heavy weight of oppression. I had not been prepared to face the gap between my own privilege and the poverty standing before me, most notably the poverty in freedom. I had the sensation of having eaten the forbidden fruit, a paradigm shift in my view of my place in the world.

Near the end of the trip, several of us sat around the hotel lobby, eating Cuba-brand snacks and drinking Cuba-brand drinks; we lounged on long, red velvet mid-century couches. Someone asked what brought me to Havana. "I came because I wanted to define my convictions, and-" I found myself stuck, only able to squeeze the rest of my sentence out through tears. "I still have no idea."

That night, I turned in early, exhausted and overwhelmed by my thoughts. Oppression. Poverty. My own divorce. A sense of the letters of my life being shaken hard like Boggle letters; who knows what new words it will spell and what old words will not manifest. I longed for a vice- internet, food, television shows- anything, to soften the raw, heavy discomfort. Even the book I knew would make me feel better, I had given away to a Cuban art dealer that afternoon. Finally, I realized that there was an Elizabeth Lesser podcast somehow saved on my phone. I ran a bath and listened as the universe gave me exactly what I had asked, in a much different way than I had anticipated.

Quoting Howard Thurman, she said, "Do not 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."

In two sentences, my convictions had in fact been defined, right there on the phone that never had to come to Cuba in the first place. Sadness for the oppression of others had been overwhelming me; yet, I was oppressed because of my own stance toward the world. I had asked for liberation; I was liberated from this need to use my mind to decide how be the most "effective" and "helpful" human; instead, I could follow my intuition, my heart? I could FEEL my way to the answers? It is not the kind of response I had at all expected. Instead of reading more books about world economics, I could find what makes me come alive and trust that the rest would take care of itself? The thought of having permission to just be felt like was it's own form of liberation.

********

Soon after returning, I found myself in the most instant connection had experienced so far (I didn't know yet that I would soon be blessed with one lovely connection after another); at the time, I was floored by this. Who knows what's what, but I began to believe in things about chemistry, romance, etc., in which I had long filed into a folder titled something like "unrealistic," "irresponsible," or "teenagerish." This affirmed, it seemed, some of the reasons B and I had kindly agreed to separate from one another.

I have previously been super careful in love- in fact, most would probably say beyond too careful. This time, I thought about Thurman's words, "find what makes you come alive, and it was clear to me that walking this path made me come alive right then. I could feel this so clearly. Opened up. A bit afraid of losing it, or especially losing my newfound hope in this kind of connection.

*****

I had followed my bliss, my life's navigational tool.

Later, I'm overlooking the most kick ass sunset view of downtown Dallas, sharing drinks with a friend. And then, I learned something that felt heart breaking to me.

Details schmetails. Paid tab. Phone rang. It was a woman associated with TM here in Dallas. "I hope you meditate tonight," she said.

I get it, Universe. Thank you. I went to my car and sank into the infinite of meditation. I cried, and I thought of something I had heard Chogyum Trungpa say about surrendering to sadness as a soft, brave act- The beginnings of being a warrior, he said. In my surrender, I was able to see both my pain and the greater purpose in it at the same time.

This whole thing- not the dating part so much as the crack in my fishbowl of life in general over the past two years- pushed me to a limit I haven't seen in at least a couple of decades, believe it or not- that limit that had caused me to close down in the first place as a little girl, frantically guessing at the emotional climate of the next moment. But this time was different. Almost as soon as I found my edge, I decided to be brave, to lean into it. I felt like I was standing up for the little girl who couldn't do it anymore.

I think I have been approaching this edge for years, gaining the courage, gaining the strength to knock down the wall which had muted so many of my years. I just needed something to push me over the last tiny part of the edge, into the abyss. The abyss isn't bad at all; in fact, there's a lot of hope in here. A lot of liberation. A lot of real.

I realized that for me to really have my wish from the universe- to be able to know I could love so courageously, I needed to feel deeply, so intimately, and then for my fears to manifest. On a human level, the emotions were messy, of course; yet, on a soul level, I could consider nothing but gratitude. I got to learn that I was still ok. It's all gratitude at the end of the day anyways, right? It's interesting to think of what spiritual deals we might have with one another, rather than think of one as hurting another. Especially when we know there is no one and no another.

The duality of my feelings is notable. I almost feel like two people- one that has awakened a great, great deal more than the previous me, and who is capable of loving like I've never before been capable. The other self is the self who can feel pain with a new (recovered) intensity, too. She is the same self who used to be to so afraid to feel anymore that she had shut down to avoid the sorrows; but sorrows and joys have the same key to the same lock.

I can feel all of those years of repression spilling forth, and I am liberated, and I am lighter every day. Later that night, I went to yoga. I cried. Running. Cried. Elliptical. Cried. When I was a little kid, I remember thinking, "I wish I could cry so someone would know how sad I feel." These days, I see glimpses of myself opening back up- after something like two decades. It feels like a total rewiring, if that can be imagined; and, it all has something to do with the confidence of knowing that no matter what, I'll be ok. Something to do with feeling my infinity.

Who knows who or what is next. I feel like I can do anything. Then, there are moments where I feel precarious; yet, I remember knowing that I can do anything. As for my mind- it is mostly fired for now. My mind would have ditched that whole experience a long time ago; in fact, it is B who talked me out of that a couple of times. He would say, "You said you wanted to be good at loving. Love is in the ambiguity." I want to follow what resonates with me, what feels right. How could I not? I see the fruits of it in my life, so shockingly clear.

I have learned that the new me cannot see far ahead, and that is because I am seeing things more as they really are. Impermanent, uneven, perfect reality. My job is not to use my mind to plan a detailed course of action for me life. I already tried that. My job is to follow my bliss, to decide what, in THIS moment, makes me come alive- and to do it.

To quote Lori: Thank you, Higher Power, for everything you bring my way.

namaste.

*In case you know B and I and this post is making you feel bad for him, I should mention he is dating as well. We are still best friends. We have dinner and talk about our dating adventures and our new lives outside of ourselves as a couple. We know it's weird. We don't care.

*Life Upside Down Disclaimer: Half of the shit I say these days, I say the opposite of soon after...Que sera, sera...I'm not claiming to currently recognize the difference between love, a rabbit hole and a bad idea. I have the confidence in my ability to be okay these days, though, and am concerning myself with the very next step and that is it. :)

can't sleep...

2010-05-17T01:59:00.007-05:00

i heart the hipstamatic app; i just do.

God,

grant me

the serenity

to accept

the things

I cannot change,

the courage

to change

the things

I can,

and the

wisdom

to know

the difference...

Today, I am thankful for many things, including:

-A four day week!

-And a field trip to the Aquarium.

-A fun time at Hippie church (aka unitarianism); I'm helping with the kids' class. Most notably, there was this string trio- a (kickass) violinist, a guitar player, and this guy who rocked out the mandolin! They also performed the song Blackbird, which has special meaning to me right now, given where I am with things.

-Friends. Friends who talk me through my own dramas- I used to keep most of my dramas to myself, or maybe talk about it, but only once my mind was already made up. These days, it's more of a "come as you are" kind of vibe- much better. I'm coming with my discomforts and my sometimes self-induced drama. "This is just how it feels to be vulnerable," says friend Elizabeth, handing me a comfort Frappaccino. Other friends, who are patiently waiting for me to be ready to share more about what could look like my life crashing down around me, or like the opportunity of a lifetime- depending on where one is standing...Friends at Cafe Brazil for brunch. Friends with drinks. Friends with elotes. :)

-Internet Friends. Margaret and I seem to be going through divorce together, something I'm sure neither of us imagined so many years ago when we met on here, each mostly focused on fitness, each with our boyfriends. We have been blogging buddies for something like 7 years, I think, along with Mia and Lauren. It's amazing how you can meet real friends like this- I did not anticipate it. I mean, for real! Mia and I are talking about working on a teaching project together this year, long distance between here and the Bay Area where she lives. Also, I strongly suspect that Margaret and Lauren and I will all meet up this summer; this has been in discussion for a bit, now. Regarding divorce, I should add that divorce is more of a symptom in the case of B and I- a positive symptom, believe it or not- of a new kind of life in which feelings are really and regularly felt and chances are taken, etc., etc. So, I'm not "going through" divorce as much as I'm "going through" withdrawal from thinking I had everything figured out when I actually had lots of blank spots.

-Pema Chodron's audio book, "When Things Fall Apart." This would be great for people with addictions; she goes very deeply into the concept of just sitting with discomfort, loneliness- refraining from trying to make the discomfort go away. It is an uncomfortable practice, but incredibly strengthening. It really helps me sit with my fears, and I find that when I lean into my fears, really feel them, they pass through me and go away. I have more of a sense of being able to handle much more than I felt I could handle before.

-My camera is FINALLY fixed. It was sadly easy to fix.

-I remembered to take my trash can to the curb for tomorrow.

-I finally fell into a little...depression? for a bit...And, then out of it, thank God. Nothing like dispair. I would describe it as grayness, listlessness, and a heightened sense of anxiety. I started to just feel paralyzed- I had tried to hard to build a "problem-proof" life, only to find that the goal in itself meant I had some pretty serious problems! I fell into this place in which I wasn't sure what directions to move ON ANYTHING without making huge mistakes again, and I just didn't want to move at all. I realized, "I still don't know how to do this, necessarily." I guess the big lesson there was to stop trying to be perfect, and just be where I am. It's human. It's messy. I still like me- some people seem to like me more. Some don't love it so much. Now, instead of assuming that no one will stick around if I go through pain in the ass times or have needs, I'm just making the mistakes that reflect what it's like to start something new; and I get to really know who sticks around for that, instead of the subtle manipulations we can sometimes to do ensure we are "loved." I'm believing more in people. It feels good. Less lonely.

-Realizing that really helped me rededicate myself to extreme self-care. I'm usually pretty good about this anyways, juicing and exercising and such; but, I had fallen off a bit- and now, I'm back on for reals.

-So, I'm kind of "broken open," knowing nothing; but, I am usually feeling liberated by this.

-I had the best yoga session tonight. The energy in the room was amazing. A girl next to me brought her baby, probably about 6 or 8 months. She was crawling all over me during a couple of poses! It was beyond cute- I'm so glad it happened! Little kids can really remind us of the nature of the universe...meant to be silly, mostly worry-free, fun, laughing and falling down and making funny faces at people you don't know.

-This is kind of weird, but I've been going to a 12 step program: Alanon. Wow. This is a special kind of vulnerability, because you are in this room with people just like you, talking about shit you usually don't say- and it's not like a therapist that you pay. Something about the money really changes things, somehow- it saves you from the vulnerable parts a bit. In general, I've done my due diligence in life to be sure that I'm rarely vulnerable to anyone at all- to a truly shocking degree (which is why I'm rambling on about it now...). I can see clearly that this is a huge part of my current path- to find the point of vulnerability and to sit with it. Again. Again. To be loved. To love. To be let down. To see that I'm ok anyways.

-I'm working really hard at just having fun-- I got really serious at some point as a kid, and I stopped being child-like very, very early. This week, I've thought a lot about how it's time to go back and reclaim those years, and just relax and have a great time. Be silly. Be ok. Be spontaneous. Learn something new. I have some things coming up that are kind of fun/scary...

-Getting my house together more, bit by bit. I think I mentioned that B and I had never really unpacked-- if that couldn't have been a clue! I bought a desk last week for my office (to be), and I think I'll probably get around to assembling it this week. I'm grateful for this house- it fits me so well. I love it. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to live with someone again- who knows.

i don't know much, but...

2010-04-10T18:01:00.006-05:00

I know I like this: A little tea pot from a little person I teach.

And...

I know I like this. The Fools have taken to lining up by height when I come home. I asked them to try it by birthday, but they just looked at me.

And for this moment, that's about all I know. Guess that's all we really know anyways; but, man, I'm really feeling that for once. Surrender.

How to peel an onion.

2010-04-09T00:15:00.005-05:00

Ah, the layers.

In front of me is maybe an inch of visibility- not a whole step- only enough to see that I am probably safe from death or disaster for at least the evening- or maybe until lunch time. Where I am, it is as dark as the Blackbird’s black night.

Today, my thoughts are as empty as blackness. You know that moment in the movies after the bomb has exploded- that strange kind of silence? That is something like the emptiness that I am hearing. There is a ring to it. It is quiet and loud at the same time. It is the panic of the unknown. It is the peace of inevitability.

I’ve tried to control so much; I thought I could do it. Not other people, but the outcome of my own life. The avoidance of pain. Of let down. Of disaster. Sure, the core of control, like that of an onion, is mythical; yet, knowing that makes it no less terrifying to let go of all that I thought I had wrapped up neatly. Holding on. Grasping. And is that something like panic?

I have read books about this, about the virtues of letting go, how beautiful it will be. I’ve known it was time to release that branch I've used to tether myself to the water's safe edge, the only thing keeping me from flying downstream. I remember smiling at the salmon as they hop upstream; silly salmon- you think you can keep that up forever? Let go, the river nudges, gently at first. Sticks and leaves and bubbles fly past at break-neck speeds, toppling over rocks and quickly out of sight.

My enthusiastic faith in the river, in the better life I’ve heard to be found downstream, is replaced with- terror? Something like it. Something immune to rationality, to reality. River: If you don’t let go, the branch will break anyways.

I'm not sure if I let go or if I couldn't hold on anymore. The current hasn’t slowed; I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what the next inch of river brings.

It is dark, and I finally revel in it. The darkness becomes my liberator. I’m not in control; I don’t have to be, and thank God, because I’m exhausted from the misconception. I am seeing the lessons in the darkness. Only in darkness can I surrender to the universe- it is not surrender if I know all of the outcomes, or if I think I do. Only in the darkness can the light find itself.

“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly, into the light of the dark black night.”

I am peeling through the blackness, and I can see the light.

how to rock like Emily Dickinson.

2010-04-03T20:27:00.000-05:00

2010-03-09T13:20:00.002-06:00

"Adopt the pace of nature.

Her secret is patience."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

simple lovelies

2010-03-08T21:57:00.004-06:00

Picking out a new friend when two of your best friends just moved out together.

lighting incense.

writing a little blog, even if it's kind of feast or famine-y.

Happy tea in my kitschy little mug.

reading poetry (Marcie, this is a book I got that day we went to that estate sale(s).

leaning

2010-03-07T18:57:00.011-06:00

I am leaning, and I don't know into what.

I used to see my whole future- the entire thing. I knew all of the boxes of which I would be checking, I knew them by heart; I had been planning them for years. I wrapped these plans carefully and clung to them white knuckled, riding out the lonely times of my past on these childhood dreams. I wouldn't repeat those mistakes- ever. I wouldn't lose my footing for love- ever. I wouldn't be vulnerable like that- ever.

And there I was, vulnerable anyways.

That crystal ball? Rouse. Selecting the details of my life carefully out of a catalog? Limiting. Vulnerable? Oh yes- this whole time. A newish feeling for someone like me to actually feel, though vulnerable I've always been. I find it to be paradoxical in nature, like a black and white drawing. Black defines white. White defines black. Vulnerability defines living. Living defines vulnerability. B is moving today, and it is a step forward. Seven years of looking for Home with one another, and we are off to separate houses. It's not so much that he is moving that makes me shake; the fear is in what comes next, a different kind of life. So far, it seems my objective had been to avoid pain...

Leaning. Into my bliss? Yes, but I can only see the very next step in this game. I have no boxes to check off, and I don't know where I'm going. God, I can actually feel it, through my chest, my stomach. It's raining, and I can't see ahead of me, but I smell something like spring, and I think I'll stick around for the new life, for the harvest. How long have I been swimming upstream, I wonder? Tired, yes. Will it be liberating to let go, to let the currents take me? Will it be terrifying? Will I get hurt? What will I find?

"Well," said Pooh, "we keep looking for Home and not finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this Pit, we'd be sure not to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because then we might find something that we weren't looking for, which might be just what we were looking for, really." -quoted from The Tao of Pooh

good morning, neighbor.

2010-03-06T06:59:00.009-06:00

(periphery)

It is finally growing warm enough to spend my mornings outside, as I love to do. Well I wouldn't call it warm, but with a giant sweatshirt and a cup of chamomile tea, it's doable for someone even as wimpy as me. Preston digs his nose into my legs, hiding himself under the table from the rambunctiousness of Fool 1 and Fool 2, who sprint in constant combat across the bricks. We are full on ghettoasis this morning; the bird songs, towering trees and sounds from the waterfall below could almost fool me into believing that the waterfall isn't made of urban litter (which I am not moving- love my trash waterfall!), that there aren't a couple of no-tell motels within walking distance. I love the contrasts. I love it here.

B loves the Cliff, too; but he doesn't love this particular neighborhood as I do. With no interest in the house, he is moving to another Cliffborhood. It is frightening, yes, the fact that he is finally leaving. I can feel one foot out of my comfort zone, and I feel quite naked. We have known this was coming for much longer than we have outed ourselves, and we kind of knew for much longer than even that. We are both peaceful and compassionate towards one another in this, and in that peace, we find our confidence that this is our best next step.

It is hard to explain to others why getting divorced is a step forward, mostly because it seems an unconventional line of thought to many. People who know us well know that we love to spend time together and that we rarely fight. They know that Bruce was wonderful to me when I was very sick, and that for a long time woke up an hour early every morning to make massive amounts of green juice to help me get better. They know I helped him through his mom's lymphoma last spring; they know he then helped me through my mom's lymphoma later that spring. They know we practice transcendental meditation together and go to one another for spiritual advice.

In spite of all of this, we feel like we have outgrown our time with one another as a married couple, that keeping our relationship in this capacity isn't best for us. Of course, there is always more; yet, even the unspoken "mores" don't really warrant being typed into words, because the point is we aren't thriving like this, and it is no one's fault. Does that make it a mistake? Not for me; I would do it exactly like this again. It has been a wonderful seven years of safety and stability, which I know I needed and will always be grateful for. Do I think I'll get married again? Well, I've learned to try not to say never, but I don't think so. I have questioned whether marriage was the right path for me for years, and I do think I needed to get married in order to have those intuitions confirmed. I may be with someone again; but, a forever promise just doesn't feel right. If forever happens, that would probably be lovely; but then, after the dust settles, most everything seems lovely anyways.

I remember learning about the Buddhist concept of impermanence from Lori when she was working brilliantly through reorganizing her life post-cancer. I recall reflecting on how special B was too me- How could it be that we are transient bubbles on a stream, no more connected to one another for eternity than any other two particular bubbles? How could it be that we could pop out of existence as individuals who felt so much compassion and connection for eachother, and just be water, sameness, perhaps even other bubbles down the stream? I still don't have an answer, but I've developed a haunch that our path is to follow our bliss, to float down stream; and maybe that the love and connections we find on that path are a reflection of the sameness and compassion that is core to the relationship that we all share...That the love we feel between two people is one of the greatest hints of all time, an analogy.

imprecision

2010-02-16T06:53:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I think I have typed and writtten into journals SO MANY words, I mean, so many f****** words...trying to describe feelings and energies and gratitudes, and that what i will come to find is that there are no words, no piecemeal of phonemes carefully assembled -as much as i love them- that resonate at the precise level of any perception whatsoever. We can try, and it can be beautiful, but it will always just be an analogy.

the relativity of perception...the precision of essense

Reminds me, once again, of my favorite poem:

Persimmons

BY LI-YOUNG LEE

In sixth grade Mrs. Walker

slapped the back of my head

and made me stand in the corner

for not knowing the difference

between persimmon and precision.

How to choose

persimmons. This is precision.

Ripe ones are soft and brown-spotted.

Sniff the bottoms. The sweet one

will be fragrant. How to eat:

put the knife away, lay down newspaper.

Peel the skin tenderly, not to tear the meat.

Chew the skin, suck it,

and swallow. Now, eat

the meat of the fruit,

so sweet,

all of it, to the heart.

Donna undresses, her stomach is white.

In the yard, dewy and shivering

with crickets, we lie naked,

face-up, face-down.

I teach her Chinese.

Crickets: chiu chiu. Dew: I’ve forgotten.

Naked: I’ve forgotten.

Ni, wo: you and me.

I part her legs,

remember to tell her

she is beautiful as the moon.

Other words

that got me into trouble were

fight and fright, wren and yarn.

Fight was what I did when I was frightened,

Fright was what I felt when I was fighting.

Wrens are small, plain birds,

yarn is what one knits with.

Wrens are soft as yarn.

My mother made birds out of yarn.

I loved to watch her tie the stuff;

a bird, a rabbit, a wee man.

Mrs. Walker brought a persimmon to class

and cut it up

so everyone could taste

a Chinese apple. Knowing

it wasn’t ripe or sweet, I didn’t eat

but watched the other faces.

My mother said every persimmon has a sun

inside, something golden, glowing,

warm as my face.

Once, in the cellar, I found two wrapped in newspaper,

forgotten and not yet ripe.

I took them and set both on my bedroom windowsill,

where each morning a cardinal

sang, The sun, the sun.

Finally understanding

he was going blind,

my father sat up all one night

waiting for a song, a ghost.

I gave him the persimmons,

swelled, heavy as sadness,

and sweet as love.

This year, in the muddy lighting

of my parents’ cellar, I rummage, looking

for something I lost.

My father sits on the tired, wooden stairs,

black cane between his knees,

hand over hand, gripping the handle.

He’s so happy that I’ve come home.

I ask how his eyes are, a stupid question.

All gone, he answers.

Under some blankets, I find a box.

Inside the box I find three scrolls.

I sit beside him and untie

three paintings by my father:

Hibiscus leaf and a white flower.

Two cats preening.

Two persimmons, so full they want to drop from the cloth.

He raises both hands to touch the cloth,

asks, Which is this?

This is persimmons, Father.

Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk,

the strength, the tense
precision in the wrist.
I painted them hundreds of times
eyes closed. These I painted blind.
Some things never leave a person:
scent of the hair of one you love,
the texture of persimmons,
in your palm, the ripe weight.

heaven unnoticed?

2010-01-27T06:48:00.001-06:00

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

there is a lot number on my birth certificate.

2010-01-22T21:12:00.009-06:00

(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.

I am...

2010-01-19T18:58:00.003-06:00

...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.

this was acutally legal (promise)

2010-01-10T02:02:00.003-06:00

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

feel.

2009-12-06T08:25:00.002-06:00

I know. Lots of quotes lately. And lots of not being here. I have been input rather than output as of late; no apologies, of course, as we follow our impulses as our life's treasure map.

You wait until I tell you how much is changing; it's literally (expletive) unbelievable. Of course, I am not telling it today. :)

I cannot describe what has been happening to me (and I believe to B, too, although I will have to tell you about that later), as in the synchronicities, vividly clear "messages" from the universe, or rather, vividly clear decisions to make. Everything is so, so clear and beautiful; I realize I sound like I'm holding a giant hookah, however have seldom meant something more than this.

I tend to believe that this fresh mental and emotional spaciousness, clarity, arises from practicing transcendental meditation for the past five months; as in perhaps it has given mental spaciousness to unblock parts of myself which were impeding living a more authentic life...more authentically aligned with my soul's desires/purposes. I truly believe that our bliss, our hearts desires, are our compass from the universe toward our most authentic and fulfilled life.

Our prefrontal lobe, our planning brain, is often merely in the way; yet, oh, the many ways I've given this sterile driver the wheel. I mean, it drives safely and pragmatically enough.; however, it seems to regularly misunderstand and limit the vehicle in which it navigates. I think of it like driving a Taurus, quite exceptionally, working so diligently to rock out this Taurus. The often unrealized irony is that while you were thinking so diligently, carefully controlling each nuance of the gas pedal, the break and perhaps the gears, you failed to notice you haven't been in a Taurus at all, but in the Batmobile...or a spaceship.

I will speak about the changes very soon. It's pretty unbelievable. I've never probably felt more alive or sure of things or open or peaceful. Having said that, there is a part of me that is just afraid out of my mind. And that is my intention for this stage of my life, in a way...Feel the anxiety, the fears of truly living a non-sedated life. Be comfortable uncertainty, tolerate discomfort, especially the discomfort of not knowing. Be open. Let go of ego. Remember one of the most important universal truths I've come to deeply believe as of late: Ego is never personal; love always is. I know it to be true deep in my core, and when I let that truth be my veil in the world, everything wonderful comes to me somehow, esp as it pertains to my relationships with others. The sanity in others, the compassion which is their true essence, arises when one does not react to ego, knowing it is not personal...and finds the morsels, however small, of compassion, taking them in like the carefully wrapped gift that they are in their essence. But, the fear? Yeah, I feel it. Sometimes, at least. Sometimes, I find ways to avoid it. These words, by Pema Chodron, are such a poignantly apt description of where it is that I am right now, and where it is that I am going. Peace.

Impermanence becomes vivid in the present moment; so do compassion and wonder and courage. And so does fear. In fact, anyone who stands on the edge of the unknown, fully in the present, without a reference point, experiences groundlessness. That's when our understanding goes deeper, when we find that the present moment is a pretty vulnerable place and that this can be completely unnerving and completely tender at the same time.

What we're talking about is getting to know fear, becoming familiar with fear, looking it right in the eye -- not as a way to solve problems, but as a complete undoing of old ways of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and thinking. The truth is that when we really begin to do this, we're going to be continually humbled. Fear is a natural reaction of moving closer to the truth. If we commit ourselves to staying right where we are, then our experience becomes very vivid. Things become very clear when there in nowhere to escape.

i have...

2009-12-05T03:45:00.003-06:00

loooooooots of news.

I haven't been writing or reading.

Processing instead.

It's all good.

"When the shit hits the fan, we keep our heart open." Pema Chodron

2009-11-18T13:03:00.000-06:00

Only surrender can give you what you were looking for in the object of your love. The ego says surrender is not necessary because I love this person. It's an unconscious process of course. The moment you accept completely what is, something inside you emerges that had been covered up by egoic wanting. It is an innate, indwelling peace, stillness, aliveness. It is the unconditioned, who you are in your essence. It is what you had been looking for in the love object. It is yourself. When that happens, a completely different kind of love is present which is not subject to love / hate. It doesn't single out one thing or person as special. It's absurd to even use the same word for it. Now it can happen that even in a normal love / hate relationship, occasionally, you enter the state of surrender. Temporarily, briefly, it happens: you experience a deeper universal love and a complete acceptance that can sometimes shine through, even in an otherwise egoic relationship.

-Eckhart Tolle

2009-11-01T19:27:00.000-06:00

...."whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth."
...."And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to acheive it."

Paulo Coelho

What? Me?

2009-10-03T21:17:00.005-05:00

Okay, so when my computer, my love, went on sabbatical, I gave some things up. One of them was visiting the fab website, Crazy Sexy Life. You know, Kris Carr? You know. Anyways, I love it there! I believe the support among like-minded folks I've received there is part of how I figured out how to get better and leave the health drama behind. I especially love Fit Club, where you can informally log your workouts, etc., and give and receive support from others. It's quite warm, quite fuzzy.

So, while I was away, I was chosen as member of the week! Had no idea. Love that! So touched. I'm never skipping out on CSL again!

So, to reiterate: I'm SO much better. I'm mostly balanced at work. I've lost between 16 and 20 biggies (so far!) that I put on when I was sick, depending on how you look at it. I'm in my goal (first goal) jeans- Okay, so they used to be my fat pants. Who cares! Oh, and I did make it to the super fancy pants specialist of all endocrine tumors, etc. I could give you details, but I'm so OVER the details of my lack of health. Let's talk about the many, many fabulous counterparts, such as the body that sustained me, the wisdom from teachers like Byron Katie, Eckhart Tolle, Pema Chodron, etc. that kept me from losing my mind during that crazy ass time. I will never, ever be the same. I will always give my body everything it wants and says it needs, I have little doubt of that.

My mom turned fifty yesterday; I know, young! When she was my age, she had a fifth grader. I truly cannot imagine. I turned twenty-ten last week, celebrating, of course at Eno's. I've got some very special livelifetothefullest tentative plans for this year, but I'm a bit superstitious to reveal- Last year, people I love dearly kept getting cancer when I was planning trips. Thank God for the blessings of health that everyone in my family seems to be enjoying right now. Peace, the utmost peace, to those going through a different experience.

B and I are going through a weird time, but are each growing so much because of it. Will expound when ready.

Hmm, seen my social filter? No?

hot yoga + pitta?

2009-09-13T13:51:00.008-05:00

Expressing myself in list form today. I've had coffee, because it seemed quite perfect on a balmy, rainy Sunday day (and it was); however, I'm talking fast and with the random streak of a four year old, so I doubt my ability to string together words in a manner that is cohesive and intelligible. Stream of consciousness wins again.

+I haven't been blogging because my computer is on sabbatical. Her screen went white, which turns out is detrimental in Macintosh land. I don't feel quite as inspired when on borrowed laptop, so, you know. I haven't been around. I'll get my computer fixed for the approximate price of one leg in January when into a new budget. Why didn't Applecare fix it with their famously fab service, you ask? Well... Cautionary note: If you spilled some water on your computer in the distant past and it is fine, consider never ever admiting this to any computer warranty people. I know what you are thinking: I wouldn't dumba##, and why did you? Call me an idealist- the truth doesn't (usually) let me down.

+My mom's last scan: CLEAR!!! We are smashing cancer like CRAZY, this family!

+Believe it or not, after all of my accolades for hot yoga, I had to say goodbye for now. My pitta (this is the heat, the fire element, in our bodies- according to ayurveda) went through the roof, with all of the hot yoga I was doing (my goal was 7.5 hrs/week). My face began to constantly burn, much like hot flashes. I started to feel bitter and more easily angered, all signs of pitta aggravation. As much as I loved hot yoga, something about how my life is today-- the increased balance, the Transendental Meditation-- I was able to let go of it quite easily and move over to a non-hot yoga studio. I may revisit hot yoga in winter time, when pitta is at it's lowest. Or not.

+As you may have heard me whine about previously, hormonal dramas of youknowwhat (which I just refuse to give more talk to) made it sooooo easy to gain weight and soooo hard to lose. (Do not let them tell you it's because you are getting older, ladies! Get your everything tested.) You may have also heard me bragging shamelessly that, since I regained much that energy I had lost, I have been working it at the gym like Britney. I mean working it. If you have ever lost your health, just observed your ability to get up and function like a normal person, maybe you understand my zeal. I am so confident I will always treat my body with just zealous respect and attention. It is odd how discipline is just not an issue, even a bit, after I have been through that life changing event.

+...Which is all the better for fitting in my (actually quite pretty) bridesmaid dress, as well. I'm in that wedding on this Saturday. In charming Kansas City, which I looooove. Ah, fall; already starting to seduce with her early-turning colors there. As far as the wedding, I am thoroughly thrilled to be there for my loyal, funny friend who surprised me at my own wedding with a mimosa , right before I headed down the isle. Took the edge off. Never mind the clonopin the univ dr gave me to make it through the day.

+I don't need anything to take the edge off at work these days, because it is going amazingly smoothly. I love my team, and my students, and their parents- who have already been volunteering in my room! I'm going in early daily when things are quiet, and I am leaving right on time. My boundaries are clear and have not been stretched. If I have to address something that just has to take extra time that week, I give that time back to myself the following week by not going in early or by going in early but my latest leisure book in classroom instead of working. The atmosphere of the room is soothing; it feels calming, conducive to thinking, and I feel at home there. Plants on every table, lamps instead of the florescent overheads, a candle on a candle warmer and a little fountain on the window where the sun shines in. Watching the kids already being so passionate about exploring authors they love, choosing a book because it won the Caldecott medal, and connecting themes among texts on their own, I'm reminded of why I have a passion for teaching. I am so blessed that I have finally found a balance in it, because spending the day with kids is an opportunity I haven't found words to describe.

+I'm working more diligently on my Spanish, in and out of the classroom (Ideally, I should be using as much Spanish as I can on Mon/Wed/Fri). Growth has felt slow, and I hope I will soon hit a critical mass .

+Live music + wine tonight in a well-designed, friendly atmosphere...M +D, are you reading this? Wanna come? Anyone else? Katrina?

namaste

2009-08-23T23:07:00.005-05:00

I have never wanted a tattoo badly enough to consider the physical pain of doing so. I mean, I can be kind of a baby. Indecisive, too. I like change, or at least I seem to have a lot of it, so it always seemed like a tattoo would be too permanent. Then, I read an Ani DiFranco quote somewhere that said something about how she realized her tattoos were no more permanent than she herself. Wow. I'm listening....And then something about going to hot yoga so many hours a week, I'm feeling the desire to commemorate the end of my challenge. It is not for many more weeks, so I have the time to think on it.

I'm thinking 'namaste' or an interpretation of namaste, and I'm thinking on my foot, on the inside. The color of henna. If there is something that I've most taken from all of this exhausting 7+ hours of yoga a week, it's that I hope to remember that the very best in me sees the very best in you...and to remember that those aren't different things. Somehow, in all of that sweating and exhaustion and pushing of limits, there is a transcendence that occurs as the body and breath sync; the illusion of separateness falls away a tiny little bit. I want to take that with me all day.

In other news, I was in KC this weekend for a very special friend's bachelorette weekend. It was such a great time with funny, down to earth women. I left missing Kansas dearly, to be honest. I love it here as much as I can, but I miss the midwest state of mind. I miss being near friends I've known for years and most of my family.

Having said all this, last summer I also whined about living in Dallas and when I let it go and focused more on the essence of what I was looking for (diversity, real people, nature, charm, community), I found it right here somehow. B and I talk about manifesting a bit, which makes us both feel kind of flaky; but deeply, I do feel that the universe is intelligent and responsive, and I do see evidence of like attracting like all around me.

So, here it goes. The essence of what I'm missing is...invested friendships that are deep and light and fun at the same time...connection with family members...charming, old-world surroundings...simplicity...walking to a slow, steady beat...cycles in nature, like the expansion and contraction of fall, then winter, then spring and summer...I can't pinpoint what I love about that one...variety? the hopefulness of spring? the artfulness of fall?

And tomorrow, when students return and responsibilities start to call to me faster than I can answer, I just hope to be balanced. I feel protective of my life balance, and vulnerable to lose it. I think yoga during the week may be my best balancer. I am so afraid, honestly, of going back to only existing as a self during the weekends, that is if I can get my mind off of work. I joined a book club. I have yoga. Balance...Peace...Respect for myself and my body...That's the essence of what I'm hoping to get out of this year.

i had to leave the house of self-importance
to doodle my first tattoo
realize a tattoo is no more permanent
than i am, and who
ever said that life is suffering
i think they had their finger on the pulse of joy
ain't the power of transcendence
the greatest one we can employ

- Ani Difranco

how did i not see this during the election?

2009-08-12T19:39:00.001-05:00

The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.

I actually hate myself for how much I love Sarah Silverman.

Rocka Chakra

2009-08-10T01:39:00.009-05:00

I just finished week one of a 9 week hot yoga challenge. I'm loving it more than I can find the words for at almost 2 in the morning. In only a week or so, I get my first yoga foundation bracelet, which is surprisingly exciting for me (and according to their illustration, I will have awoken the vag. chakra?). I'm just so happy that my body is able to support me and make such a nice place for my spirit. I don't know where all this is coming from, but I've just been overflowing with body gratitude as of late. Things are just so great. You know, I whined about not being able to run again, but look where it got me. I would not have signed up for another shot at the hot yoga studio if it weren't for my running defeat. And hot yoga is where I need to be right now. I love it. I'm so grateful. I do not at all mind almost always being in the lowest percentile of yogic ability in the room full of Cirque de Soleil performers or a Free Willy stunt double compared to the Hollywood physique that finds it's way into that place; it's so about me and my body and spirit. And you know what else- it's nice to frequent uptown again. I had gotten to feeling like I lived far from uptown, which is really silly because it's something like a ten minute drive. What is it with that river making you think you are driving farther than you are?

In a couple of weeks, I'm headed to KC for a very good friend's wedding shower, we rented a whole giant bed and breakfast for girl time, extravaganza. I'm in her wedding in Sept, and I forgive her for choosing satin dresses, which I'm wondering could be nicknamed cellulite spotlights. Actually, the dresses are beautiful, and I think any fatty boomalattie spots can be treated with the undergarment of steel titanium I'll be donning. I know. Hot. For serious, though, I'm so happy to be there for my friend after she was there for me and helped me survive my own wedding. I was not the most "bride-y" of brides, but my bridesmaids/personal attendant who was more in a position of maid of honor, really- they knew how to do it, and they kept me sane. I'm so excited!

Gerson therapy, modified, is just getting better and better. I've been increasingly leaning more and more into the protocol for about four weeks, and the difference is just crazy. Number one is just that dang juice. I can't freakin' believe it. Juice!!! I love the whole Gerson thing, though. I'm just now working on decreasing my salt because of the whole sodium/potassium ratio that is apparently integral to Gerson therapy; I wasn't sure I wanted to do that part, because of the sodium issues that are a part of low adrenal function- but I'm leaning into it. Tonight, I had half of a baked potato with Greek Yogurt, sauteed garlic cloves and lemon juice for flavor. It was so good.

I can never completely do any sort of protocal, like Gerson or raw food. I'd like to do most of both of them at some point, I believe. I'm too much of a foodie to go all the way, though. It's my passion, food. I could never live without having spinach crepes at Cafe Brazil or the Twig and Branch pizza at Bolsa...Street Side salad with garlic bread and butter with truffle oil at Eno's...Sante Fe Omelette with a mimosa at Dream Cafe...Eggplant parm at Maggiano's...Sprinkle's cupcakes...Taco Diner's guacamole...all of the pretty cheeses and pastries at Whole Foods...

I. Love. Food.

2009-08-06T16:54:00.008-05:00

When I look back at my misery posts of exhaustion over the past year (and probably three to five years, if we look really closely), I feel so grateful for how much more human, alive, I feel today. As these things often play out, I did not realize how poorly off I was until things much improved. Today, I'm sleeping through the nights, drinking tea instead of coffee, eating about three heads of vitamin-rich romaine in the form of fresh, fiberless juices, eating much more of my food raw, exercising regularly, going to hot yoga almost every day. Thrilled is not even the word for it; there should be a better word. My energy and clarity is through the roof compared to even a few short months ago. I feel so much gratitude to my body for responding to natural, albeit somewhat extreme, measures. I'm losing that weight that sickness brought on, and I can hear my body so much more clearly. I can sense situations I like and don't like much more clearly. I'm getting out. Me! I had all but fallen from the face of the earth, and now here I am getting out!

In a weekish, I'm back to work. I was terrified to go back, for fear I would lose all of my progress. Now, I'm actually starting to look forward to it. Can you believe that? In the middle of last year, I cut down my extra hours drastically. This year, I'm doing it again by taking a break from the leadership team. Bittersweet to miss out on some inspired and creative thinkers, but I know it's the right decision to keep looking toward health. I know it's right because I can feel that it's right. I'm feeling more than thinking, something I have often shut off in favor long pro + con lists.

Yesterday, I had not slept enough and did not drink much juice. I went to breakfast with a friend (hi!), one of those people that you always feel better after hanging around, instead of depleted as with some folks. After that, a colleague met me to talk teacher shop, and we ended up talking more about her struggles- it's one of those relationships I struggle to balance in the way that some people are kind of always in a drama, but one that I see lots of absolute greatness in, too. I just found that when I was so exhausted, I sat in this conversation, let all reciprocity go out the window and basically signed up to be depleted and further depleted (not her fault! all mine!!!). It really showed me (1) how good health and decisions lead to more good health and decisions, and also (2) reminded me that the fuzzy, exhausted place I was in was the place I used to be in all the time. And I want to go back and hug that me who was going through that.

And although I do believe the words of Byron Katie, "When the mind is perfectly clear, what is is what we want," I'm so grateful that where I am right now is so hopeful and peaceful and full of life. I mean, I'm so grateful.

When I left, I thought of how my body had been working so hard for me, and how I let her down that day. I drank one green juice after another + ordered in a giant, healthy salad from Eno's while I rested, napped and watched The Philadelphia Story.

you see me rollin'

2009-07-27T13:27:00.006-05:00

"We have to be focused when we makes the cake."

To be fair, it is a famous cake. And, if we're being honest, not my first time to be asked to focus. In January we finally made time, and B's mom carefully guided two rookies through each step, sub-step, and teeny tiny baby sub step of the family cherished + aptly famed chocolate roll recipe. B's grandmother debuted famous-cake years before; then, B's dad and mom, being an engineer and slight perfectionist, respectively, added an endearing if not slightly overwhelming set of sub-steps. Let no man put asunder.

2009-07-27T05:10:00.004-05:00

chicken wire + great grandpa's (now grandpa's) vegetable garden.

My camera is in some eternal error mode, which is sad because it is summer and I'd like to be taking pictures all the time. If you have the Canon Rebel, and you know what to do when it gives the error message that says it can't shoot but to try turning the camera on and off, please enlighten me.

Today, with Transcendental Meditation teachers to "check in"; they are so helpful and patient with all of the rookie questions.

Then, to watch "The Ugly Truth," where I deftly avoided peeing on myself, it was so funny.

does it work?

2009-07-27T02:37:00.010-05:00

Trying to figure out how to upload bigger pictures into blogger. Let's see how much more I like this photo when it's giant.

Okay, so it cut the picture in half. Dang. But it is big, so I guess that's progress.

Update: I figured it out! I'm so happy.

2009-07-13T21:23:00.005-05:00

"Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray." ~Rumi

juicy

2009-07-10T13:06:00.009-05:00

I looove Jennifer Weiner's books. If I didn't already enjoy that they are easy reads about unconventional women, I'd read them for the decadent food descriptions. Hands down, I'm a foodie. Meal chronicles such as, "garlic and white-bean puree with truffle oil" tap into my best foodie instincts, and I'm ready to savour some words.

Literature + bubble bath = ooh. But how about some juice with that? Carrot juice with apple. Thank you Super Angel (pretty, pretty princess) juicer! Yesterday was my biggest juicing day yet with five whole juices, four of which were green.

And did I mention I'm caffeine free for something like seven days? I have recently heard caffeine dependency described as living off of credit: If you don't pay it back, your account suffers because you are essentially living off of a facade. Er, I think I get it. I may not even be a person who can have an occasional caffeine drink; it's indelibly easy for me to slip into the routine of using it to elevate my energy so I can do more. Do more! Do more! For example, right now I feel a little tired. In (seven) days gone by, this means I'd get some coffee, a whole jittery pot; since I'm not running to pour a cup, I have some foresight and think about the fact I slept 6 hours last night instead of 7 or 8. I need a nap, not a coffee. Naps are sustainable (yes they are); coffee is not sustainable in that capacity. Right. I don’t want it anyways. Yes I do. No I don’t.

Let's talk about all of the nutrition I had yesterday! Juice, man. I meant it when I said I was done with this sickness crap- and then with B’s mom and my mom both getting lymphoma in the same breath- it’s to much. So, my answer, or part of it: juice. Four green’s yesterday, and one carrot. That's about an entire head of romaine lettuce- those are huge! Also, a green pepper, three whole organic carrots and one green apple. And that's just for my juice! I ate food, too. And since I’m trying to shrink my arse, now that I know that every extra pound of fat is extra hormones your body has to regulate, I made sure to stay in my little calorie range. Iphones have a good app for this, called “Lose It.”

Where is she getting all of this energy, you ask? Something that's making an heavy impact is that B and I went to Austin to learn Transcendental Meditation. I had been considering it for a year or so, and once Bruce learned about all of the studies on TM, he wanted in too. I'm finding my meditation has improved HUGELY. I mean, I cannot even tell you how much better it is- life changing better. My perspective has just shifted in these past seven days that I’ve been practicing...I have more of a sense of the commonality we share. That's right, you and me. We are s to the ame.*

*I’m willing to hold nerdy white girl gangsta talk coaching sessions, but they are e to the xtra.

2009-07-08T19:47:00.004-05:00

" It is our enemies who provide us with the challenge we need to develop the qualities of tolerance, patience and compassion." ~ The Dalai Lama

Not that I have any particular enemy experiences going on right now- I like this. If we redefine the word "enemy," then I might love this.

my first green juice

2009-06-24T12:19:00.006-05:00

Decided on the Angel Juicer, mostly because many reported greater ease of cleaning than the Greenstar juicer. Love it, and have been juicing a carrot/apple combination every day. Today, I made my first green juice. I'm trying out the juices from the Gerson Therapy.

For my first green juice, I didn't want to be complicated, so I went with romaine and quarter of a green pepper. The vertical spout is where the veggies go in. One plastic container holds the pulp, and one holds the juice.

I was afraid it might taste bitter, but it didn't! It actually tastes like sweetish, lettucy water. Refreshing.

Here is the leftover fiber. The rationale behind leaving behind the fiber in juicing is that your body can take in far more nutrients than it would otherwise be able to digest. I'm one of those people who gets very tired after eating, so I find this extra appealing to give my digestion a break.

Clean up: About 3 minutes! I didn't even need to use the special brush that came with the juicer. Just a hot rinse, + it's shiny new.

Conclusion: Angel juicer gets 4 out of 5 juice glasses. One goes missing for expense + because it is less versatile than the Greenstar. The super easy clean up + pretty princess design means I'd choose it again!

Ghetto Disclaimer: Tile grout is permanently this color! I know. Yes, I've tried the paint stuff, but I'm open to your ideas. At any rate, this is how the counters always look-- can be ghetto, but no one wants to look more ghetto than they actually are!

Preston likes it here

2009-06-16T15:17:00.003-05:00

Preston loves the range, mostly because there is a pond and he is able to most efficiently smell of fish. Sam and Moses like it too, but they can't be trusted off leash.

My mom is recovering from a hysterectomy + removal of the tumor-- rumor is she looked 6 or 7 months pregnant! She says she never expected to be pregnant at 49, but she might actually take the baby over the tumor.

Anyways, her biopsy results came back; it looks like she has non-hodgkin's lymphoma. She had a bone marrow biopsy today-- but we won't hear back for awhile. It has occurred to me that I should get over my fear of bone marrow biopsies, should I need to look into sharing some marrow...not sure how that all works.

No one wants any cancer, but I think lymphoma is probably relieving to my mom compared to the ovarian cancer we thought it was. For awhile, there was talk of the situation as being very, very dire with very few options. Since then, it's been roller coastery, but overall better.

My mom is in super good spirits. She's kind of a badass.

home on the range

2009-06-15T17:36:00.008-05:00

I am home on the range. This is my grandma's house, where I was mostly raised--my mom and I lived on in a little trailer on my grandma's land...humble, yes. Who would want anything other than? I didn't know it at the time, but it was pretty idyllic. This pic is just out the garden that I remember my great grandpa tending when I was little. I took the picture because I think that' s a squirrel tail hanging off of it; not sure what that's about.

I remember lots about this garden! It used to be even bigger than this. I would take the tomatoes into my wagon and sell them door to door. My grandma would take me to pick okra for pickled okra and to dig up potatoes for the mysterious underground potato cellar- I will always remember it to be one of those strangely comfortable smells, standing, surrounded in the dirt, must be what it smells like to be a toad or a snake, I wound think. She would take me to her precious strawberry patch, then to pick apples off the trees for apple pie.

Baby grapes. I remember these, too.

2009-06-09T20:49:00.004-05:00

Mom is still at the hospital. One dr says her tumor is not operable. Another says it is. She's being quite brave. I have an appointment with an endo I've been waiting on for awhile, who had a cancellation. The funny thing is, I feel like I'm sort of giving up on waiting for medicine to make me feel better in his journey. I have an intuition that my real healing/relief will come with getting a bit extreme about nutrition, ecercise and emotion balance....

UPDATE: Jan 2010...Wow, was that intuition ever right! I'm so happy and healthy now. I still have the tumor; sometimes if we take amazing care of our bodies, our bodies will take care of the little dramas such as a tumor for us...I am in need of no treatment other than continued health and happiness! I am so grateful! Grateful! I wish I could walk every single person feeling how I was- walk them down this path so they could feel how I feel today.

strange birds + five clams

2009-06-09T13:44:00.005-05:00

Sam + I went on a walk yesterday. We came upon some birds...the heck?

What are these birds? The brown ones were kind of metallic-purple on their faces. They were just barely larger than common doves, walked liked chickens, shook their feathers like peacocks. They did not seem to mind my little dog + I.

Breakfast. Pretty much what I have every day, but it used to have eggs.

Haven't been feeling eggs for awhile.

Mom Update: My mom's in the hospital getting tests + blood. It might be a few days before we know anything. I'm sending lots of peace and healing to her!

Have you watched this?

www.foodmatters.tv

Totally worth the five clams. There are some free ones on there, too.

Healthy Eating: Something about all of this health drama, all over the place, all at once, has made anything remotely processed just look terrible. I'm generally pretty healthy anyways, although I think someone should tell my a$$ that, because it's just not shrinking. It's beena little awhile since I've had anything other than vegetable or fruit--I haven't had gluten, sugar or any sort of animal product (although once I'm healthy, I'd like to have fish again, I imagine). Whatever it takes at this point! I'm still waiting on my juicer. Woo hoo.

It's 5:26.

2009-06-08T17:27:00.003-05:00

It's 5:26.

Appointment at 4.

She has not called me yet.

Grandma surely wonders,

if...if...if...,

would it be heaven?

would it be hell?

I assure her, unsolicited,

God hears all Her children.

Triangles awaken

as stubborn perrenials,

raising with familiarity,

nature's ironic patterns.

Women's chatter fills

the room, Fill it. Fill it.-

another familiar pattern.

Space, anxiety, space, anxiety

Fill the anxiety.

Feel the anxiety.

It's 5:32.

When will they call me?

Counting up the barters

to offer the Gods

in exchange for a

most pleasant phone call.

It's 5:39.

today part I (from iphone pov)

2009-06-07T23:33:00.004-05:00

The little dogs + I sat in the gazebo. Preston sat in this bucket.

It's very cool.

Preston + dirt bucket.

today part II (from iphone pov)

2009-06-07T23:24:00.006-05:00

Here is my lunch before. All from farmer's market.

My lunch after. It was very good, thank you.

Pico I made to go with organic, vegan chili.

I just made a couple of servings of the pico, so that we have lots of prana (life) in the

leftover chili we eat when we make fresh pico to go with it.

A candle I lit for my mom's healing + peace.

dig

2009-06-06T21:19:00.003-05:00

It is time to dig deep! Health, mental clarity, family contacts, Bowen Family Systems, spirituality...no waiting.

Right now, I'm grateful for so much. That's where my mind is. What do I have to worry about in this moment? This moment requires my presence.

bubbles on a stream.

2009-06-04T19:18:00.006-05:00

I have this quote and design on a coffee mug that just might

be my main source of wisdom at the moment.

This is a strange time for me.

I'm not sure if I should even say up here what all is going on. In 3 months, my health has spiraled, my husband's mom has been diagnosed and then cured of non-hodgkin's lymphoma, then today we find out my mom might have ovarian cancer-- she is not insured, and won't know for sure until her medicaid goes through, but apparently that's what they are thinking. Yesterday, I found out that another very special person to me has been dx'd with pancreatic cancer. Bless her. Bless my mom. Bless B's mom. Bless all of us.

I went to the new endo yesterday who said he's not ready to treat the tumor- unless it's Cushings, which he's checking for, and in which case I'll need neurosurgery this summer (but this is very unlikely). Interesting. I think I need to juice. I think I need to run again. To write. To somehow deal. This is the weirdest time- somehow dark, yet I know that there is a purpose. I'm not sure what to do, really.

no more fudge-ickles.

2009-06-01T22:07:00.007-05:00

Green star juicer. Cheaper. Uglier. Crazy amounts of versatile. Lots of people love it, including juice guru Kris Carr.

Pretty, pretty princess Super Angel Juicer. Supposed to make better juicer. More expensive. Supposed to be easier to clean. I don't think it's as versatile. So pretty.

Downtown Dallas from the zoo monorail. Zoo monorail!

It's a big week.

Work + Me as a Neurotic: There are two more days of school. I'm going to miss this group SO much that I wondered how I'd do it this time! And there's the silver lining of this health drama- nothing can make me NOT want the school year to end right now. This is all my ego talking, because I love teaching; honestly, I'm ready for a break from the sucking at my job feeling. This has really taught me how strongly I identify with doing well at work. Right now, I just can't do what I used to be able to do, and I have to find a way to be ok with that. I'm so surprised at how "Monica" (from Friends) I am about it-- I want to run around to everyone: "Are we okay? Really, even secretly? What about now? Now?" I'm often observing thoughts like, "Does she think I'm making this up?" I want to be that person who doesn't care what others think, but my thoughts are more along the lines of, "Is there anything I can do so you will like me? Please? Like me?" Don't get me wrong- when I decide it's okay, I can easily get over someone not liking me; but it's very rare that I truly write someone off like that.

Green things: Getting a real, fancy pants juicer! I'm SOOOOOOOOO over this health crap. I watched a couple of documentaries, too; that, combined with this health dram fest may have just put me over the edge to a healthier me. The other green thing coming into my life is (maybe)...wait for it...a PRIUS!!! If the 90's hippie conversion van could see me now!

When I get more healthy: I'm going to be more present with my family and my friends and my funky little pets. This weekend was my dad's 50th birthday (my parents had me when they were young!). He got a Fender! My dad is seriously a rock star guitar player. There's all this musical talent in my family. You should hear my mom sing, too. And my aunt. Me, I'm like those people who try out for American Idol that have a dream but not much talent. I rock out, it just doesn't make a pleasant sound. like you hear on the radio...I've been thinking of trying guitar (again); my dad kind of inspired me. Sometime I'm going to get one of those electric pianos, too. It keeps getting pushed to the back of the budget. That's okay, though. I'm glad I got my camera first. It was my present to myself for doing leadership team.

2009-05-23T18:41:00.009-05:00

Well the good news is I got a hair cut and it was at an Aveda spa for uber comfort and relaxing (and wine for the asking); I also don't look like Laura Ingalls Wilder anymore.

Also, Thursday I saw India Arie in concert. Please see her; she is the voice of women and exactly what I needed. I only saw her for about 30 minutes because I was just tired, but it was perfect. Her positive and spiritual message is beautiful; it just seems like the answers the world needs, especially women. After all of the weight gain (put on over the past 6 or so years, being sick and not knowing it) , listening to India sing songs like "This Too Shall Pass" and "Video" was perfect. At the beginning, she prayed that the concert would touch everyone in exactly the way they needed.

The other news is my health has very much spiraled as we attempt to figure this tumor thing out. I can barely get out of bed sometimes; it's unbelievable- we are talking tired to the point that I'll have B drive me some place to "get out of the house," and by the time we pull up, it's not worth getting out of the car for me, and I sleep right there. I've never felt anything like this. My work and family and friends (although I rarely am social these days) have been fantastic. My mom flew out here when B visited his mom (dealing with chemo!), so I was not alone. My work has given me the space I've needed, including the wonderful parents of my classroom; I don't like to discuss work in detail, but I will say that 12 parents attended our final field trip! Sadly, I just haven't had the stamina/physical stability for the past two field trips. It's been hard. I so identify with my role at work, being good at it...and, although I still stand proudly behind my teaching, there is much that I just can't do. I love being with my students. I love teaching. Missing the last field trip was unbelievably hard; the humility of watching a sub and 12 (very kind- I don't know what I'd do without them!) parents load my students onto a bus because I couldn't do it all just hit me at once, and I went to my class and just cried.

Thank God for the people I work for, the people I work with, the kids I teach and their parents. Thank God for B, for my family, for my friends who put up with me never ever calling. I know this too shall pass. I know it's all good in the end. I know I will see it. I have enough wisdom to know it will come, I just don't have the wisdom to see it right now.

Wednesday I visited my infinitely wise gp (message me if you are a Cliffie and need a fabulous THINKING, non-egoic gp!). I knew things were much worse, but it's one of those things in which I've felt so exhausted for so long that I'm not sure what's what these days. She looked at my cortisol labs and said, "Your life is hell." I had this instant feeling of validation-- for people going through something that no one can seem to figure out exactly, the LAST thing you want is a normal lab or a dr to minimize things! She tells me I'm approaching total adrenal failure and I need to get into a good endo in "days, not weeks." I think only a handful of people will understand why this was good news to hear (as was the tumor!).

The endo, I'm working on. My last endocrinologist was, well, we're not going to work out. I cannot wait out the left-brain logical-sequential approach to this. I'd like to get into someone that specializes in pituitary issues; I'm wait listed right now but some say they can see me if my gp asks for an urgent referral (working on).

I have researched cortisol levels that are this low, and it seems that these people wear medical bracelets-- you need cortisol to live. If you're in an accident or ill and your body can't make cortisol, that's a life or death thing. I'm not certain if this applies to me-- I tend to think we just don't know if it applies to me. We don't know how or why my cortisol has tanked, if its related to the tumor or no.

I'm getting a little, not worried, but wondering if this is going to be something more serious. When you step out far enough, there are only a couple of things that would make sense and encompass the breadth of lab results and clinical symptoms. One is not very good, and one is pretty bad.

I cycle between acceptance of my new normal and then desperate fantasies of coming back to next year's school year as if I've been 'watered,' energetic, thin again, healthy and strong. And then there are the darker times in which I wonder if this is the beginning of some kind of end, of what's nature I don't yet understand. I know I'll come to terms with whatever I need to reconcile, but I'm finding myself grasping onto the structures I've so intentionally built into my life. I want them to be permanent; I love them. Intellectually I'm aware of the ephemerality of things, and yet intellectually, I grasp. Another day, another paradox.

po- po- po- poker face

2009-04-28T20:02:00.007-05:00

Dallas zoo. I got a little sad about the elephant, I'm not sure why, so I didn't put up her photo. But I did pray for her; what kind of flakey weirdo am I? Sometimes, I think someday I'll go back to working at a zoo. I love what they do for animal conservation. You know, the reason quit was because I suspected I might be "more PETA* than AZA." The whole animals in cages thing; I get a little emotional about it sometimes, especially with chimpanzees. You know what, though, Jane Goodall says zoos might be the best hope for animals across the world. Jane Goodall. I think I'd like to maybe be an education curator some day.

My mom is coming to town on Mother's Day weekend. B is going to visit his mom, who we are keeping in our prayers, because she's going through her 2nd round of chemo for NH lymphoma. We're flying my mom in to keep me company, since the whole cluster headache thing is new and being on the medicine for it makes me about as smart as that guy I dated who said low carb beer was a bad idea because why would you drink beer with no fizz (a walking after school special for why not to do shrooms all day, every day, duuuude.)-- and because I like my mom.

So, I've been laying around a lot, I suspect from toomah fatigue. Sooooooo tired. Usually, I am accepting of that; today, not so much. IIn lieu of perspective I present to you The Song A Day Guy!!, one of the unsung perks of rarely moving + clunking around on the internet far more than is healthy. This guy is SO funny, man. He writes a song a day. Check out the Paul Krugman song. Bwaahaaaahaaa.

In other news, tonight I stay up until midnight. Eeek! I haven't been that cool in awhile. I have to chew on this thing at midnight and then take it to a lab to see if toomah is making cortisol. All before my economy car turns into a pumpkin.

And tomorrow, I actually am going to be cool, because I have tickets to see Fleetwood Mac! I don't think I've ever longed to see any band more or watched any band's concert dvd more than Fleetwood Mac. I went to see them once, but I was a mere fetus!

*I'm not in PETA, so you can put your hateraid down (okay, I just wanted to say hateraid).

I used to be, though, and I probably will again.

They actually do a lot for the environment and for animal welfare in general; I'm sorry

that some of them can be scary or threw paint on your coat.

Go ahead and eat your steak;

I'm not judging.

It was about to rain.

2009-04-27T13:00:00.002-05:00

Pretties. I almost cut these down because they are ugly in the winter, but then they turned out to be one of the prettiest little plants we have!

Big snail + garage door.

Where the hell are my keys?

snail + chrysanthemum stems

rain drops + fuzzy plant

It's raining, it's pouring, it's all relative.

2009-04-27T11:44:00.009-05:00

evergreen + rain drops

leaf + grasping

It's all relative. Is it a good day? A bad day? I feel...depressed? But I don't know if I would call it that, because I know everything is going to be fine. Better than fine. I know this is important for me, this experience. One part of me is actually grateful for the challenges, knowing my job is to let go and float down stream, follow my bliss, see where I go. On some other level, I just feel...tired. And not just toomah tired, but some kind of emotional hangover of sorts. I feel like my vulnerabilities have been exposed, like the ground I stand on is shaky. And intellectually, I know that's okay and even good...but I'm having a hard time moving, because I just feel a little, I guess, beat down? It just is what it is.

I'm not at work. I'm working out things that make part of me sad, like setting up what to do if I need to take a leave of absence (which is heart breaking to me!), going to the doctor, making more appointments, figuring out how to get my insurance company back on my good side, and catching up on a lot of the work-related things I simply did not do last week when I was in my pharmaceutical daze.

This moment is the perfect teacher. This moment is the perfect teacher. This moments is the...

trash water fall + upgrade to class I rapid

The one in which she professes miracles.

2009-04-26T09:21:00.004-05:00

fruit-salad + eggs with sweet potatoes + coffee.

Seriously. Baby Jesus? Genie?

How, how, how, after FOUR weeks of predictable debilitating headaches, do I not have one right now? And did not have one last night? (And last night would have been the debilitating one...the morning/afternoon ones are like a light migraine; the night one, I cannot describe.)

EXACTLY at the point in which I honestly felt like I had NO IDEA WHAT I WAS GOING TO DO.

These things go in cycles, and I am thinking my "cycle" might be over. I am in disbelief over the timing.

Sometimes I wonder if all this is happening because I keep saying I want to grow personally, spiritually...It's like one gut check after another. I really and truly do wonder this.

I'm headed off to the zoo, medication-free, which means I'll have real actual emotions and be more of a person than a zombie!!

WOW!

The one that is ironic.

2009-04-25T23:17:00.004-05:00

How's that for ironic. Right after all of my whining and admitting defeat, this is my first night in WEEKS (I'm thinking 4) that I have not had a headache right on schedule, starting at around 5:30- 5:45. I started to get it. I drank a lot of water and some caffeine. I took no medicine; it's gone. I just can't believe it. I had been starting to get a little afraid, too, because of how they had been gaining in intensity. I am terrified of having attacks like what I've head about; who wouldn't be?!

Anyways, now I'm wondering: Is the cycle over?

A cluster headache is one of the most painful types of headache. A striking feature of cluster headache is that the attacks occur in cyclical patterns, or clusters — which gives the condition its name.

Bouts of frequent attacks — known as cluster periods — may last from weeks to months, usually followed by remission periods when the headache attacks stop completely. The pattern varies from one person to another, but most people have one or two cluster periods a year. During remission, no headaches occur for months, and sometimes even years.

From Mayo Clinic Website

The one in which she is resentful.

2009-04-25T16:43:00.012-05:00

This morning:

Me to me: This moment is the perfect teacher. This whole cluster headache thing and toomah thing, it's good for your soul. Thank the universe for reminding you that there is not real ground in this world, that everything in it and all the perceived "ground" is impermanent. Pain is inevitable. Suffering comes when we resist.

Me back to me: You're right, me. Everything is perfect just the way it is; this is exactly where I am supposed to be and exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. Do you want to light the campfire, or should I? Kumbaya, my...

Later today, B calls Walgreen's to get my prescription filled. I tend to need 3 to 4 pills a day to be functional, which ends up costing about $20/day; Yes, that's a lot for us!:

B to me: Did you hear me talking to Walgreen's? Your insurance will only approve 9 pills every 28 days. It's $230 for 9 pills. (About $100 a day)

Me to myself: Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

So the gist is this: Things just keep undoing more and more. Overall, I've gained some kind of inner spiritual-ish strength with each little piece of ground that disappears, but every now and then I want to throw a tantrum. So here it goes.

I have to admit that I can't complain too much about the tumor. I am afraid of the surgery (if it even needs to happen--we could still luck out with meds, people, or even watch and wait if it's not the big causal thing happening), because, really, I'm just like that. I'm actually more secretly afraid of the procedure that's often done before the surgery, in which they take a little balloon thingy and thread it up from your leg to under your brain to take a hormone sample. While you're awake. The hell?

My thinking has gotten so cloudy- I think that's close to the top of the list. All of this crap, and I really try to learn from it. Not to squash down my inner cry baby, but to emerge at some point with an answer deeper than a tantrum.

But, now I start to get these cluster headaches. Cluster headaches. Are you kidding me? Cluster headaches are like migraines, but more severe. They are called cluster headaches because you'll go through cycles in which you'll get 'clusters' of these headaches every day at the same times; then, you have a remission for awhile. I got some medicine, and even with it, I wondered what I was going to do. Just to function (as in show up), I needed to take about 20 dollars a day in pills. B and I have had conversations lately about what will happen if I'm not able to work.

And that's what really makes me feel resentful.

I dare you to find ten other people who love teaching as much as I do. It is such an incredible privilege to me, and here I am, wondering if I can at least make it through the year. I feel bitter about teachers who don't appreciate their profession; I feel incredibly and increasingly judgmental about it. I find myself hoping and praying someone will make an unlucky comment to me so I can feel justified in saying what I really feel.

Now, without the medicine, I just don't know. I know I'll have to accept whatever happens. I know it'll be okay. I don't always feel okay about it. The lesser me (egoic me?) feels like I'm missing out on life. Missing out on being there 100% for the best job in the world, for kids that deserve someone to actually be present for them.

I'm trying to hard to keep swimming, and when do I say I'm doing great, I really mean it. I know I'm learning from this. I know this is important for me, otherwise it wouldn't be happening. But I feel like two people right now. There is the wiser self, who sees the perspective in it all, the greater purpose. The other thoughts are there, too. And I'm not going to try and make them go away, because I've finally realized we aren't our thoughts. Our thoughts just are.

It is what it is.

This moment is the perfect teacher. No. This one.

2009-04-22T20:24:00.005-05:00

+If you wanna look at the bright side of things, sleep every night with a Preston next to you. No matter what happens any other time of the day, you've got that and it's pretty great. One of those small pleasures that adds up to a whole lot.

+Preston makes everything better.

+If you want to look at all sides, listen to Pema. She would say to lean into the pain, the groundlessness. Be grateful for pain and losses, a reminder of the inherent impermanence of things, of the groundlessness that is our true reality. You know, I've tried to visualize myself in groundlessness, and it was not at all comforting; I had really thought it would be. But, when I visualize myself in a river or creek, letting go completely and flowing with the current of the stream, I do feel comforted and at home. And I do want to let go, and I am, kind of; but it's also so easy to grab a branch here and there, or to think you've let go and not even notice your legs are exhausted from trying to kick their way upstream. This moment is the perfect teacher. Even the kicking. And the grasping.

+Today at work, I did some inner grasping. I had a reaction to some new medicine, yet another new. All in all, not that big of a deal in and of itself, but of course I let it all add up. I felt so out of control about things these days, just like, "I can't control what I'm doing right now in life. I want to, and I can't." I had this awareness that all the control I used to have, over my body, had just been escaping me, little by little, and now it seems to be escaping in ever-expanding chunks-- and there I was, not being able to do my job (which I tend to identify with), and really having to face that it's harder to do my job the way I'd like...knowing that what I was so excited and relieved might help me was doing the opposite. I really did want to panic a little bit, because having no control has been a recurring theme as of late. It's very humbling.

+And, in the humility was finally the reminder that I was never in control anyways. "This is where I am," I thought. And I just kept saying it to myself. "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing." And, when I went back to my class and watched a bunch of 6 year olds just so into their creative little works, I thought about how sad I felt to not be "with it" enough these days to really engage with them like I should. I mean, I'm doing my job, but not with the same passion. But I remembered again, "This is exactly where I am supposed to be." And really, although so much of me hates, hates, hates this, it is. Exactly.

+The meds, by the way, I was given yesterday for these chronic, debilitating headaches I've been having. I've had a handful of migraines in the past, but have never gotten medicine because I've never had a consistent issue. Then, I started getting "migraines" that wouldn't go away, that were really kicking my youknowwhat. Thought it was a migraine from the hormonal changes of said toomah or something to do with sinuses, but the dr said it sounded a lot like cluster headaches. Huh. I had heard those, but thought they were only the ones you hear about that are supposed to be unspeakably painful (think: screaming in public). Some say it's the most severe pain known to medicine; mine are not like tickles, but man, it is nothing like what I've heard. I did a little reading, and there is a correlation between tumors like mine and these kinds of migraines.

+Maybe this will get me motivated if I end up needing what shall henceforth be referred to the "what the hel l?" surgery.

+Maybe Preston needs to come lay with me.

+Or, maybe I should just be still with the drama, the uncertainty. The uncertainty was there all along. Now, my life circumstances have just highlighted what is a universal truth already; why do I act surprised?

+-says one part of me.

+The other part is feeling pretty shaken; accepting impermanence can be a b&*%$.

Putting the ghetto in ghettoasis

2009-04-22T20:11:00.003-05:00

Why, yes, that is chicken wire and a bicycle chain.

Phone booth in creek. Used to be on our side until a big rain. Now, it's our neighbor's phone booth. Gah, are they trashy, having a phone booth in their creek.

Trash waterfall. This is my favorite trashy thing about our back yard. When we first moved in, there was sometimes a waterfall sound...After some good trash build up, there is always a waterfall. It's fabulous resort-style living.

honeysuckle, highlighters + red wine

2009-04-14T22:19:00.003-05:00

When I got home, the three education books I bought were finally here! So, I had some wine and cheese and grapes and books about teaching reading. I went all highlighter/sticky note crazy. It was so nerdy and fabulous. Seriously, though? I have a great life.

Honey suckle! I love these guys. You know, we have all of this English Ivy, which I can't help but love. Then, we had all of this other ivy that I didn't really love, but turns out- it's honey suckle. Yay, because that I do love. What a happy little blessing.

Another great day.

Pretties.

2009-04-13T21:52:00.002-05:00

My great, great aunt made the quilt. I LOVE it. I have another that I also love, which also seems to be fashioned from moo moos but less matchy ones. I love prints.

Dear B + B's dad,

2009-04-13T00:11:00.001-05:00

Thank-you for my door.

Love,

Riley

Oak Cliff Nature Preserve

2009-04-12T22:22:00.006-05:00

Not long ago, B + I went hiking at the Oak Cliff Nature Preserve.

There were rocks with seedy pasts.

There were trails much more steep and rocky that the brave people (not me) fly through on their mountain bikes. One thing we learned here is not all Oak Cliff Nature Preserve trails are equal. Just because the first one took 11 minutes doesn't mean you will get off of the next one before dark.

There were roots. And moss.

Happy accident.

Ghettoasis Treasures

2009-04-12T19:03:00.004-05:00

Lizard + English Ivy during our front-yard picnic.

Waiting to bloom.

Snail rapture.

Charlie, charlie, charlie.

2009-04-12T18:52:00.002-05:00

When I first opened up my new computer, it did a whole mess of fancy things, including automatically playing this fancy pants video, making me feel like I was in one of those omnimax films. Then, out of nowhere, my own face was staring back at me. The heck? But the pictures are scary, no? Kind of reminds me of when the tv was lighting up the little girl's face in Poltergeist. Oooh.

The when in which she has a toomuh.

2009-04-05T20:40:00.003-05:00

Tumor, that is.

On one hand, it's nice to know I'm not crazy (in one respect). I've been pretty sure that I used to be much skinner with MUCH more ease, that I did not use to be such a "cloudy" thinker, a sometimes anxious thinker, that my skin was prettier + easier to please, that I was not so shut-the-front-door exhausted to tears...And much, much more.

Now, pretty much, it all finally adds up. Tumors on your pituitary are not usually cancerous, but they can really mess with your body, I've come to know. It is the boss of all of your hormones, and it turns out that hormones are just about everything. It is shocking how much of our personalities can be chalked up to biochemistry. It has been an exercise in humility, observing how little control I actually have over not only my body but my emotions and my mind. While I've never identified with being the skinniest or prettiest (although maybe skinniER or prettiER), I have identified with being on the go and with being somewhat articulate when I want to be. It's been awhile since I've not been tired (I've finally stepped back and realized this- other people noticed before I did) and since I've been able to find my words the way I used to.

Honestly, I'm a little afraid of some of this, but only in a big baby way. If they have to remove it? Um, are you kidding me? Yeah, I'm a little concerned about all of the systemic issues like the ongoing fevers I've been trying to figure out for a couple of years, and the lumps popping up all over. What are those? They hurt a tiny bit; that's how I find them. That's a good thing, right?

It sounds a little frightening on paper, but I have a feeling that certain hormones can cause quite an inflammatory response. I see an endocrinologist in a couple of weeks, and we'll continue to work on finding some answers.

I have no control. I never did.

Thich Nhat Hanh: "Nothing remains the same for two consecutive moments. Heraclitus said we can never bathe twice in the same river. Confucius, while looking at a stream, said, "It is always flowing, day and night." We may be tempted to say that because things are impermanent, there is suffering. If you suffer, it is not because things are impermanent. It is because you believe things are permanent. When a flower dies, you don't suffer much, because you understand that flowers are impermanent. Aware of impermanence, you become positive, loving and wise. Impermanence is good news. Without impermanence, nothing would be possible. With impermanence, every door is open for change. Impermanence is an instrument for our liberation.

The one in which she pees her pants. Really.

2009-03-26T18:46:00.004-05:00

Our new gazebo thingy + patio furniture + three dogs

My lot in life seems to be humility. For example, ask me how I know this: If you have to pee, and then you pass out, you will pee on yourself while you are passed out.

A couple of weeks ago, I was getting some tests done. I meditated that morning, so I felt uber zen. Even when I set in the blood taker chair, I thought, "This is where I am. I want to be present for it." So, I went into the feeling of slight anxiety I had, and as usual, that made it go away. Might as well look at the needle, I thought, if I'm really going to be present.

Then I felt tingly. The last thing I remember is this phebotomist lady (think Aunt Jemima) ordering me, "you better not pass out, because I'm not picking me up off the floor."

I left the lab that day, my own personal walk of shame, with a phlemobomist coat wrapped around my waste and a look from several people in the waiting room that said, "Was that the only chair?"

Ah, a day in the life.

In other news, today I went to get a brain MRI. It was my first needle since you know what. Same building. I got through the no contrast part fine, easy peasy. Before they even touched the needle to my arm for the freaky injection of metal dye, I knew the game was over and I was on my way out. I think my mind made me do it; it's like becoming Miss Pee Pants gave me a phobia, so now I'll pass out regardless! Anyways, they told me to come back later and take some of their chewable xanax and that I should be fine.

We're both super excited about nerdy stuff like our patio furniture and gazebo thing. The creek comes with an army of mosquitos. Now, we have our own little plan, muah ha ha.

Oh, yesterday my cat jumped up and knocked down my cup of tea onto my computer. So, I got a new one. Sad to lose my old computer, but I knew it's days were numbered anyways. I'm really loving my new Mac-- I got the "green" one, because well, I haven't set up my recycling. So, now when my hip, liberal environmentalist (as I proclaim to be, except for hip) neighbors notice I never take my recycle bin out to the curb, I can flash them my super green macbook.

The one in which she admits why she hasn't been writing.

2009-02-14T11:47:00.005-06:00

Lake Cliff Park + nice day

I might erase this.

I haven't been writing, because I've been slightly freaked, medically speaking. Or something like that.

I haven't been avoiding writing for lack of peace...If this juxtaposition of being slightly freaked + the following can makes sense together, I'm actually MORE peaceful. More accurately, the place I'm in is best described as more "input" than "output." It's a place I've always gone where I need to center: Inside, spirit, nature. Historically, writing is a big piece of that, but I've been finding more of myself in emptiness, sitting than expressing or "thinking through."

I 've been reading a lot of Eckhart and having long meditation mornings. I've been trying to do my own little things like sit outside, go to bed whenever I feel sleepy, shut myself in my room when I feel depleted a all. Sometimes that's 6:30, but to paraphrase Byron Katie: This is exactly what is supposed to be...how do I know? Because it is what IS.

I'm sleeping sooo much, I'm exercising, I'm respecting my body and what I put into it, I've placed huge boundaries at work that were much needed. It's hard to do this when your work feels spiritual and gives back so much, but has to be done.

The one in which she ponders sacrilege.

2009-01-24T23:06:00.002-06:00

miniature sun-room + Riley's hideout

our 'vintage' O'Keefe + Merrit stove

house + side yard

living room before we lived here* + my design delimma

The fireplace is huge. No, huge. I love it. I hate, hate, hate the brass. I also don't like that it has red brick on the bottom + white brick on the top. Last, it has been stained messily. So far, my research + time/money availabilities tell me that the best course of action is to paint the whole thing white for now. And, I've got a cream for the walls. Inspiration found here. Thank-you, thisyounghouse.com! Apparently, I can paint that brass door thingy?

So? Best case scenario? Or, sacrilege?

*This photo is from when we looked at the place,

so that's not our stuff. We would have liked

to have that chair in the corner, though.

pieces + light

2009-01-23T06:57:00.001-06:00

blue heron + ghettoasis

2009-01-22T21:00:00.002-06:00

I'm pretty sure the heron is out of focus, but this is on our way out of our 'hood. Note contrast of waterfall/nature with trash & gang graffiti reflection. That's why we love it here!

Seriously, we love it here. Today, we were at the gym (I know, two times now.), and again, I just realized how I love being in this little urban community. Five or ten minutes from downtown but still with all this nature. I can overlook the occasional tire, shopping cart (or phone booth, as we now have it) in the creek. I like the paradox of it.

Reppin' for the ghettoasis,

2009-01-22T20:20:00.007-06:00

bog of eternal stench + b's dimples

2009-01-21T05:53:00.009-06:00

(B + dimple + The question was: Is your wife the #1 or #2 most beautiful and intelligent human you have ever met or laid eyes on? Either that or "in a minute." )

On the best sleep ever & the philosophy of dogs: I slept fabulously warm and peaceful last night. Moses very much wanted to stay up to watch the Inaugural balls on cnn.com, so I let him sleep with us; usually, he's kenneled at night, as he's not to be trusted. All of our animals slept with us last night. It is was very warm.

Moses has somehow beat Preston in cuddly-naturedness; however, Preston remains my favorite to sit with, to sleep by as far as the animals go. He feels more like a friend.

Is there something different about large dogs? We love all of our pets very much, but to us, Preston seems like a person. The little dogs seem like wonderful little dogs. In spite of this difference in "humanness," or maybe because of it, I have to say that the little dogs do seem much more 'present." Especially Sam. Sam is always in the moment. This is not so with Preston, in whose face I swear I can see worry, eager anticipation, and cognition. Sometimes premeditation. Read: When they leave, I will turn over the trash can. But not until they leave.

Intriguing + even paradoxical how that added sense of humanity seems to steal from presence; or is it that at higher levels of consciousness, we must choose our presence? Does the element of conscious choice make it better, deeper, richer?

On the horrific aromas of youknowwhat: Speaking of deeper: The down side of his cuddly nature is that Moses frequently smells like ####. We've been wondering, what would make something so small evoke such horrific aromas out of both ends?

Intrigued, B went all Inspector Gadget & began scoping out his backyard manners. And before I tell you this, just don't judge me. I mean, we've been busy. We have a ton of er, leaves that we have never ever raked, piling (exponentially) against the back fence.

Leaf pile? Turns out, not just leaves. To Moses, a gold mine. If gold is ####.*

Oh. My. God.

On the splendor of morning & the travails of a failed perfectionist: On a brighter note, I'm writing this in the morning which means I'm in good spirits. Morning is a wonderful time of day for me; it is when I feel most peaceful and centered. I'm hoping to get back to waking up (and getting up) at 4:30 so that I can have as much morning as possible before I'm off to the light of day.

Today, I actually rolled out of bed at 5-ish, slightly lethargic from staying up to watch Inaugural stuff. (Fighting urge to go to DC + hand out Red Bulls to the Obamas.)

As usual, B and I did a little meditating and reading. We read a passage from Eckhart Tolle about ego. This was good for me, because my attitude about work has been rather anxious. I don't believe it has anything to do with my work as much as me being VERY unbalanced toward work. I've been trying to balance, and in many important ways I have. It can be extremely difficult for me to keep work in perspective; it is my Achille's heel, partly because of the love of what I do making it so easy for what I do to become ALL I do or think about.

When it comes to flow-inducing states such as this (work, school), my perfectionist side kicks into full, all-or-nothing gear. It is difficult for me to say, "It's fine like this." And then leave it. Leave it. Step away. Do something else. Live your life. I find this counter-intuitive to the degree that when I'm working on it, I tend to have escape fantasies of being a stay at home dog-mom. They tell me this isn't a real job.

*Flash-back to very unfortunate face lick.

The one in which her brother turns fourteen.

2009-01-20T07:36:00.004-06:00

(mmm...dark chocolate cake, home made)

Yes, I have a fourteen-year old brother. My dad has been raising children for ninety-seven years.

(fabulous step-mom lighting up the cake.)

The past couple of years, G has had a family birthday gathering at Dave and Busters. Of course, we love this. It's a kids' party, but you get to eat food other than pizza; and, you can have a Guinness! Or, Baily's and coffee, as it may be.

(grown-up "cake." see the frothy goodness?)

(does anyone actually win anything here?)

We very much enjoyed our time with G (+ the family), who has unlimited texting now (as does our twelve year old sister). It is fun that they are getting to an age where we they are starting to communicate like grown ups...Of course we're talking about texting: Maybe I'm communicating like a teenager?! IDK. TTYL.*

(Gateway drug to vegas, I think.)

*Translation:

I don't know. Talk to you later.

Or, I'm also texting someone else more

important than you and don't have time

to spell your words out, loser.

I hadn't been to the dentist in six years.

2009-01-19T19:03:00.006-06:00

(i love ducks + geese. don't know why. at park.)

Okay, seven.

I know.

I have had some pain in a molar: Can you say root canal? Well, you don't need to, because my teeth are just fine! Mostly. The pain was a little mystery crack, easily fixed.

Essentially, I went to the baby dentist. They have Otis Spunkmeyer cookies, fountains and soothing music. Plus, everyone treats you like a bff, and you get your very own t.v.! I watched the food network, which we don't get, not having tv and all. Then, I slid down a rainbow into a meadow of unicorn's breath. Or, maybe that was the laughing gas. Anyways, it was dreamy.

(b being all kinds of present + some charming old stairs.)

Then, we went to a park and took some pictures. Some good, some bad; I can't always figure out how to change what it is I'm focusing on. I'm a little confused about aperture as well. There were some times that the light was just breathtaking; however, the photo came out either super dark or super bright. I believe aperture has something to do with light? It seems I could change this and get the beautiful shot that my eyes saw into the eyes of the camera.

(goose @ river in the park.)

After that, I was at the gym (yes, I went inside!) watching Oprah, and it occurred to me: Tomorrow, Barack Obama is going to become our president. It is a work day for me, in that I don't teach class but get to work on all the work I need to work on; we'll see how much work I get done. I believe some will be surprised by the heightened emotions of this historic, historic day. I feel teary just thinking about it, and that is just me; I truly cannot manage to mentally put myself in the place of any of my friends and co-workers who are African American. The emotional impact this must have upon their entire families must be indescribable.

Let's face it, sometimes the rest of us take it for granted that the effects of racial discrimination are not a thing of the past. It took teaching and living in a diverse, urban area for me to really and truly get (to the point where I am now, that is) the cross generational rippling effects of slavery, pre-civil rights, racism. This is momentous, and merely the beginning.

MLK day obviously held special significance, both because of the racial barrier our country busted through but also because we have a service-minded president again (Kennedy: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.").

It is beautiful. It feels beautiful. No one can stop us now. Peace and beauty and goodness win, all the time. If they aren't winning, the game isn't over. I can barely believe we are where we are. I feel so very blessed.

(gang of geese. crips, i think.)

Makes me think of my attitude a couple of years ago, and less, to be honest. I've joked that when I travel overseas, I'll wear an "I heart Canada" shirt. And yes, I'm ashamed of some of the things our country's leadership has done. But now, I'm also a little ashamed by my ship-jumping thinking. I'm so proud to be American, because of the ideals inherent to our country. Because of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Liberty Bell. Instead of wanting to jump ship when things like corporate government, corrupt government and shoddy leadership in general happen, the person I want to be doesn't jump ship but gears up in a positive & productive way.

In conclusion, a recovering fair-weathered friend will soon proudly travel as an "out" American citizen.

Another thought occurred to me at the gym: I don't know if I told you, but I just cut out four hours of my work week. This means that on Tues/Thurs I can leave at 3:45 instead of 5:45. That's huge! While watching Oprah on the elliptical, I thought, "I can be here Tuesdays and Thrusdays by 4:00 to watch Oprah! Holy heck, that's exciting.

Barack Obama, actually going inside the gym, no root canals. Somebody pinch me.

The one in which she has two comments and a question.

2009-01-18T09:05:00.006-06:00

Comment number one:

Yesterday, we purchased tickets to Amsterdam/Paris. Yes, Amsterdam & Paris! Me! This will be my 2nd international trip; I suspect I love to travel. There will be much walking, coffee, wine, cheese and pastries. And coffee. And pastries. And pastries. In eight weeks, we depart. Of course, I have to lose 10 pounds before we go so I can gain 10 pounds when we are there, thus breaking even. In sort of a fat way, que sera, sera.

We're going to Amsterdam first. Basic plan there: Ride a bike, drink a crapload of coffee next to the beautiful canals, soak up old-world charm, experience the canals from a boat ride, somehow try to handle the emotional overload it will be to walk through Anne Frank's secret opening bookcase, to stand in Van Gogh's museum, to be inside Rembrant's room.

Then, a four hour train ride to Paris.

Ah, Paris. We'll be there a little longer. We are buying a book, 24 Walking Tours of Paris; of the travel books we have reviewed, it seems to capture the essence of "soaking up" a place rather than rushing through an exhausting number of sights.

Of course, I plan to see some key pieces at the Lourve; more importantly, however, I look forward to seeing up close much of the artwork I have studied in all of my art courses. The place for this is the Musee D'orsay. I cannot imagine what that will feel like. Other than this, yes, I'd like to see the biggies, but I want to soak up the place more than anything. When I sink into my soul's desires, I find that I'm not as much of a sight seer as a soaker-upper. Take some pictures. Read. Write. Sip. Watch. Soak.

And did you notice the 'we' that I speak of? Yes, B is coming with me! For something like Europe, of course I would have liked for Bruce to go, given the amount of money in our bank account means we haven't done stuff like this a lot (once!). It had appeared we would not have common vacation for a year; luckily, B was able to work it out.

As more saavy travelers may already know, it was the SAME price to take B and go during spring break together that it was for me to go in the summer alone. So, if you're thinking of traveling, I am telling you that you can fly into Amsterdam and out of Paris (with a DIRECT flight into DFW, if you are a neighbor!) for under $700. Under $700!

I am looking forward to sharing my first trip to Europe with Bruce, who lived in France for a little while and who also speaks French!

As for my little solo travel bug, I will scratch this itch at a later date. I'm thinking of either going to NYC for a weekend and seeing Billy Elliot on Broadway, or to San Francisco, or to Chicago, or somewhere in Florida to watch birds (loser, I know). I'd really like to go to LA and see Ellen. I love Ellen to pieces; But, I don't know if I want to dance in the crowd without a buddy. Do you want to go with me?

Comment number two:

For a few years, I've been eying digital SLR cameras. I've watched them come down in price as I've realized how much I like taking pictures. The camera I've had for years is great, however the shutter speed should be called the shutter ohmygodhowcanyoubesoslow. I love it, though for what it is. I thought I might enjoy taking pictures, and this camera showed me that I was right. Eva at girly-bits.com summarizes my feelings on photography so perfectly here. She's right, for those of us who love the arts but are not, well, fabulous painters or composers or architects, photographer is the great equalizer. It is not too hard to both love the process and also to get some satisfaction out of the product. Eva, like several of the other bloggers I frequent, is a fabulous photographer.

Product aside, photography is the consciousness maker. I love the idea of framing every piece of the universe in it's best light, of slowing down and capturing the details of a moment. It beckons presence, which can be slow to manifest in real time. :)

I purchased the Nikon D40. But, now I'm thinking I should switch to the Canon Rebel (the 2008 one). People seem to think Canons often have better lenses. Also, the camera itself has the "live view," so one can look through the LCD and not only the view finder. Mark of a novice to want that, I hear, but I'm not sure I'm ready to let it go completely. Right now, I am like a baby deer, trying to figure out what all of the acronyms stand for and how to make things not fuzzy. I suspect (hope) the learning curve is a steep one.

And a Question:

I've been knitting. I like it! But after I work on a piece, I always feel compelled to unravel it and start over. It progressed to a premeditated act: "Ooh, I should sit down and knit something and then take it apart."

Why is that?

ostriches, suze orman + the virgin mary

2009-01-08T21:39:00.008-06:00

Ah, budgets. Schmudgets. We like to take the ostrich approach. What, we have no money? Again? Wha happened?

The ginormity of B's med school debt gives money that fuzzy, abstract feeling to us. If our budget were a modern art gallery, B and I might be standing in front of any given piece scratching our heads. "Yes, I think it's a dollar. No, maybe a goat? Do you see the likeness of Virgin Mary? Yeah, there's the nose, and, eh, maybe a goat? I don't know, let's go out to eat."

I don't think Suze Orman would look puzzled at our budget museum, but there would be a look. I would not let her in there, you know: I have the fear. She's on Oprah today. Reppin' the Oprah groupies, I've been checking in on her Best Life 2009 challenge thingy. Today was about finances; financial badyouknowwhat Suze said, well, a lot of things. An eight-month emergency fund, she says. Talk about overwhelming. Has she gotten tougher? Eight months of expenses? EIGHT?! What happened to three?

Recession, yo: That's a little abstract to me, too. Anyone else secretly wondering, "So how bad does it get? And what does that look like? What about people like me who think a portfolio is a place where you keep your pretty pictures? Should I be bracing myself, or is this more of a stocks and employment thing? Will this be like the depression, and what was the depression really like? How do you know when your'e in or out of one?" Man, I almost went into ostrich mode just reading this stuff online. Make it go away. After I finished breathing in an out of a paper bag, I got to thinking about her much less overwhelming baby-step challenge:

For just one day, do not spend any money on anything.
For just one week, do not use a credit card.
For just one month, do not eat out at a restaurant.

Hmph. I think I could do the first two okay, but man, I love me some eating out. Mmm, I'm thinking of spinach crepes right now from Cafe Brazil. With rosemary potatoes. And tabasco. Or, the sour creamy cheesy potatoes like my grandma makes at Thanksgiving. Oooh, or Bolsa's Twig and Branch pizza with a glass of cabernet, ah. A month?! We'll see. Clearly, I'm not committed yet.

Twitter Update: I don't get it. I just don't. What IS it?!

What is Twitter?

2009-01-05T17:36:00.006-06:00

Why are people tweeting about Twitter? Well, don't know what it is either, but I just signed up. As far as I can tell, Twitter can wipe your you know what and help you blow your nose. People are loving it.

So, I signed up. I will let you know if it is as spiritual as they say.

Yes, I think I feel something.

वर्क आईटी.

2009-01-05T15:12:00.004-06:00

Playing with bacteria-laden ball thingy dug up in back yard.
Ready for my close-up.

Here is my ball. Hint. Hint.

Preston doesn't get the air time he used to, now that we are a four pet (holy cow) family. We spent some quality time together outside on Saturday for a little photo shoot. He was faaabulous.

I don't know why my title is in another language. Well, now you know how to spell "work it," in whatsitscalled.

Reminds me of back in the day:
i think my dog is a hippie
morning ritual
awwww

new years in the ghettoasis

2009-01-02T04:17:00.008-06:00

Either I'm crazy again or living on the creek must make sounds (gunfire) much louder. And by much louder, I mean, "Are you *&#$*&^ kidding me?" On New Year's Eve, you would not believe the war zone sounds. Yeah, some (most) of that is fireworks, and yeah, only a few (one) were automatic weapons (the hell?!). Come on now.

Although it would be infinitely cooler, I'm not generally the cool-who-cares girl; I'm the one sleeping on the floor of my bedroom because the bullets have less entry points in there. I'm the girl that googles 'tazers,' 'how to tell gunfire from fireworks.'

And much, much worse; it's a devastating downward spiral, really. A harrowing tale at times. Some might say in a benign way; I'm more apt to call it a rocking back and forth, beat my head against a wall, wish I could go back in time and not know kind of a way. I've been down the google image search rabbit hole hell with teratomas, parasites...Not sure where the ideas come from. Karma? The devil himself?

My neighbors were not afraid of Satan at all, it seemed. I half expected them to be out talking about what I can only assume were the Sharks and the Jets outfitted with 21st century weaponry while all the police in the town were at a convention together. Nope. No one writing panicked comments on the message board, either. Even when we did get a knock on the door, it was not for war stories. Kyle across the street brought over black eyed pea soup that would bring tears to your eyes.

Ah, another day in our ghettoasis. I love it more all the time, but it is definitely different from Uptown. And Kansas.

I still love you, Oak Cliff; but I don't have to like you sometimes.

It's my 200th post!

2008-12-30T23:27:00.006-06:00

Meet Moses, our new roomie for the past month or so. We found him wondering through the desert. Or, in a teeny room at the Oak Cliff animal shelter. Thought he'd be a good companion for Sam. Total bff's.

Turns out, Moses is killer at Scrabble. Like me, he does better with a glass of cab. "I feel warm, kind of like a hug," he says.

Scrabble is funny. I never noticed how pretty the cat is. Is this table moving?

Dude. The room is spinning. No, really. Stay cool, man. Stay cool.

Someone hold my hair back. I'm never playing scrabble again.

get your motor runnin,' head out on the highway

2008-12-24T11:42:00.005-06:00

I've been doing my best thinking. And I'm thinking it might be time for another solo vacation. Philadelphia this summer taught me that there is something liberating and romantic-y about traveling alone. I've done some research, and people say Amsterdam is a great place for a woman traveling alone. I've always loved Van Gogh and Anne Frank; what the heck? It also seems to have what I love about a great city...Ambiance! I like a place to walk around, get lost in, soak up. A sight or two is good for me. I'm more about the ambiance. So, Amsterdam. Super walkable, lots of English speaking going on, mid-priced hotels with decent reviews, not a bad plane ticket.

Then, I look up exactly where Amsterdam is because I'm American, making my world geography borderline sketchy. It's only a 4 hour train ride from Paris. I can't be that close to the Louvre and not go! (Especially after Lori's fab Paris post!) And, it seems I can afford about two days of mid-priced hotels in Paris. So, B and I put our heads together (By the way, we don't have any full weeks together for at least another year, or I'd invite him to this one bc it's awesome! But don't feel too sorry for him, he's spent a week in Paris and a SEMESTER in France!). In my budget (summer school teaching money, of course!), I could: fly to Paris, spend two nights soaking that up. Check out at least two or three sights, but mostly sit at cafes! Then, take the train to Amsterdam. Stay 3 or 4 nights at cute little hotel with great reviews, walk around forever. Stare at Van Gogh's work, soak up Anne Frank's beautiful energy...Go home.

But then I also thought: OR, I could just not teach summer school and have a STAYcation right here at home. I love staycations. Sometimes, a lack of schedule leaves me a little unmotivated, though. Hmmm....I have about 1 week to decide, because I think I'll buy my ticket the 1st week in Jan. Fish or cut bait, right? These are tough decisions. It's a hard knock life, Daddy Warbucks.

birding: don't hate the playa, hate the game.

2008-12-22T14:54:00.008-06:00

Fo shizzle, yo. I've been b to the irding.

There is so a great blue heron in my back yard right now. It's huge! It's sitting on top of this dam that goes across the creek, just looking for dinner. And I still can't find my camera. I did log it in my bird book! Said bird book has 43" written beside the name great blue heron. I think this means wing span. Holy heck!

I see why old people like doing this! Give me some plaid polyester, a bird book and I'm good to go. My husband thinks he'll make a great old person; he wants to wear questionable hats and spend all morning drinking McDonald's coffee with his old man buddies. I think I might be even better! I want to be that lady who sits at rabble rousing political meetings knitting tea pot cozies (I actually do know this woman and do actually want to be her.). Then, I'll go home and "look at my birds."

This reminds me that I really want to check out the new Dallas Audobon center and also what is apparently the "largest urban hardwood forest in the country." I'm not clear on whether that's two different places or one giant nature extravaganza. Maybe if I write that down right here, I will see it and actually remember to go!

old movies + therapy

2008-12-22T10:12:00.005-06:00

I like old movies. I treasure the idealism. Why not? It's a Wonderful Life. The Bishop's Wife. Shop Around the Corner. Old movies are like happy ending insurance. They're not going to mess with your mind like new movies try to do, with a surprise ambiguous ending or where somehow the couple doesn't get together. New movies will do crap like that, I think sometimes under the misconception that it adds an artistic element. I'm just saying, if you're at the end and your haven't made your artistic mark on a film yet, maybe you should try waiting tables. Anyways, for me the bottom line is that I'm a movie pragmatist; life is short, and I don't have time for a leisure activity to make me feel crappy for no good reason. Save it for therapy. They've got all the reality you want in there, and it's YOUR reality, not make-believe. Anyways, that's why I watched Roman Holiday for the first time today, to feel fuzzy. What the ****?!! Spoiler Alert: The ending is sobering! I have been under the misconception that all old films have a happily ever after ending. Seriously, there has been a crack in the fish bowl here. If there are any other *expletive* *expletive* old films with crappy endings that you know of, by all means send me an email!

Anyways, I still actually like today a lot. B is shadowing a dr and has our car. So, I picked up the house so I don't have to do the "quickly step outside and shut the door *&#*$&% fast" if anyone stops by. Made biscuits and gravy. With coffee. And o.j! After that, I made my own big fire! It might be my first fire by myself that wasn't one of those little logs that you buy for 4 bucks from target that say things on the bag like, "real crackling sounds!"

I hope to unpack a few boxes we've been trying to forget about. Turns out that doesn't really make them go away. I have this Sean Corn yoga dvd I truly love that has been MIA since we moved (4 months?). And, I'm considering figuring out how to catch the bus line to my gym. Remember the one I haven't been to yet but somehow feel skinnier just being a member?

I'm getting ready to start a new novel, I think. I've been wanting to really, really read Paulo Coelho. I liked what I read of 11 minutes, although, OMG, that book will mess with your head! I bought Veronika Decides To Die, which apparently "questions the meaning of madness and celebrates individuals who do not fit into patterns society considers to be normal." Sounds right up my alley, but so are a lot of the other unread novels on my shelf. I'm having a hard time with novels lately, which is my clue to myself that I'm a little stuck in a no-fun mode. I suspect this happens especially to other women sometimes, too, but I get stuck in this place where everything I do seems like it should have some kind of gain...I'm working, or thinking about work, or reading about work, or even reading about spiritual stuff, honestly...where is the part that is JUST for fun? Where is my camera? That's what I really want to know.

And, hopefully, I'll meditate. I'm good at this the days I work, I think because I get into a schedule and I know my time is shorter. Most days, B and I wake up early enough to eat a good breakfast and meditate for 20 to 30 minutes. We usually start by reading something out of Pema Chodron's book on Lojong. I don't really know what that is either, but the book is centering; you open to a random page each day to read an excerpt from "Lojong" teachings as well as Pema's interpretation. My favorite one right now is: "Be grateful to everyone." About this excerpt, Pema sayeth:

Others will always show you exactly where you are stuck. They say or do something and you automatically get hooked into a familiar way of reacting- shutting down, speeding up, or getting all worked up. When you react in the habitual way, with anger, greed, and so forth, it gives you a chance to see your patterns and work with them honestly and compassionately. Without others provoking you, you remain ignorant of your painful habits and cannot train in transforming them into the path of awakening.

Um, check, check, check and check.

you can check out any time you want, but you can never leave

2008-12-20T20:15:00.007-06:00

Obviously, this is a picture of the land bridge that (probably?) connected Asia to North America. Before some glacier melting. Obviously.

It's Christmas break. I've been a blogging L to the oser. I can't find my camera. Still. If I happen to unpack that particular box soon, I'll take some pictures and actually be a blogger again. At least sort of. I need my camera, because I'm flat out of words. It's quite the mystery for someone who can be, er, a little bit wordy. I've been meditating super regularly, for 20-30 minutes a day. Is that where my words are going? Was writing my way of working through things or just organizing the thoughts, and meditating has taken it's place?

I'm feeling list-y, so...
1. It's Christmas break. We're working on our house. Hoping to: Finish painting kitchen (kitchy blue/white with pretty little anthropologie pulls I've yet to decide on), paint dining, hall, living room; finish working on this great old trunk I got (thanks Katrina!); work on our trail down to the creek; work on our back yard, trim some bushes, rake some leaves. This is my life now. I like it!
2. Speaking of, we are still loving our hood and our little house more and more. Thursday, we had a bunch of out-of-town relatives over, and my dad's family. B made spinach lasagna for nine people! So. Good.
3. B's dad is coming next week to help build a deck off of our (teeny) tiny sun room. I'm super excited. I get to hang out with B's mom, who likes to relax and have long conversations as much as I do!
4. We've gotten to know some neighbors a little more...or, more of them a little, really. We have almost all really fun and nice ones! I think we are still both a little shocked that we can actually see ourselves feeling totally at home in Dallas after secretly loathing it so much. Oak Cliff is where a lot of those people who you thought didn't live in Dallas and were missing have been! LOVE it!! Diverse. Real. Eclectic. Lots of funky restaurants, shops, taquerias (sp?), etc.
5. We went to KS during Thanksgiving. A new generation is kind of starting to form, with my generation of "kids" in the family starting to have babies. It's such a fun time, and we have all good babies! Hopefully, when B and I procreate, we won't be the ones to break that trend. Even though I am loving it here now, I really wish I had more time with the cousins (and cousin-aged aunts) that I grew up with.
6. There is a giant fire in our fireplace. Smells good!
7. You tube has made it possible for me to find that I have a nerdy love (passion?) for daytime t.v. Seriously, it's my last year in my 20's, and this is where I find myself. I seriously cannot wait to get home and see what happened on The View or Ellen. Okay, The View AND Ellen. Maybe it's a phase?
8. We joined a gym near our house. So, basically I'm skinnier and stronger already. Or, not, but at least I'm thinking about it. We still have a Bally's membership, &*#$ them to #%@@. It's like hotel california, joining that place.
9. Going to see the Nutcracker ballet on Christmas Eve. So excited.

maybe my longest blogger absence

2008-11-24T18:49:00.007-06:00

Wow. I have not been around these parts for awhile. I have to admit, I haven't been writing OR reading. Usually, I at least keep up on my favorite reads...I have some major backtracking to do.

It has been a CRAZY year. As in school year. (Some of us still measure our lives in semesters.) New grade. New program. New resolution to be best math teacher ever. Recollection of desire for life balance. Scratch new resolution; just be a much better math teacher. Thank you, Mia, for the book. I have so not properly thanked you yet, except in the fact that I have really tried to put the book to use (I have a feeling you might appreciate this more anyways!), which I'll tell you more about later...I am not joking when I say it has REVOLUTIONIZED my thinking about primary mathematics instruction. I am a new woman. I am talking about this book!

Now, it is Thanksgiving break, and things have just recently started slowing down. Exhale. We are finally starting to work on the house a little (pictures coming), and also to get out into the world of 3 dimensional people a little more. We've been hitting what we call hippie church, and have very good intentions to go on walks in the neighborhood.

Since I was last here, I have been...

Honestly, I've mostly been teaching. And thinking about teaching. It's the new program and new grade thing...I hope next year I can feel what it feels like to do the same thing for two years. To be honest, I'm a person who does things better in spurts, but I've been working on my attention span, and I think I can do it! Seriously, I could go without the stress! I keep thinking that I cannot teach and have a baby at the same time, but I haven't even given myself a chance to see what teaching without a whole bunch of extra stuff and changes is like!

Eating good food. Really. And bad food, too. But lots of good food. B and I have been waking up and eating eggs and sweet potatoes cooked in olive oil every morning. Then, we read a passage from Pema and sit to meditate for 20 minutes. It is very balancing, and I have been much more 'present' at work, which is great, because what a waste to work with 6 year olds and not be present!

Working (or rather, giving very good suggestions to B) for how to feel super safe in our ghettoasis. For real, we hear gun shots almost every weekend now. We life in a great neighborhood, actually, full of pretty nice homes, but it's close enough to whatever seedy motel or wherever that we do hear them. Kind of a lot. When we call the police, the Cheers theme song plays. Coming from Little House on the Prairie, I just have to say, "um...are you kidding?" But to be honest, it's good for the soul. I feel like facing a reality that many of my students have faced, and just people in general, and just facing it only a tiny bit more than I did before, humbles me a little. Having said that, we have a super fab alarm system, and check out our peep hole! It's MAGIC! Thanks, B!

Oh, and seriously. I got a new president. Best one EVER!!!

{moments}:

After 7 years, I moved. You're invited. (schmoments.blogspot.com)

3/30: Playing it small?

2/30: Here Comes The Sun

‎"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."Henry David Thoreau

1/30: feelings aren't emergencies

in the dew of little things

grandpa penis?

my new girlfriend: Lily Allen

my new boyfriend: Shakespeare

SONNET 116

trying to learn to play this

shit that scares me: finally being alone.

p to the owerless = s to the erenity

baby jesus + boxed wine + fedora

fear + impermanence + infinity + trump card

the universe is responsive + why I really went to Cuba

can't sleep...

i don't know much, but...

How to peel an onion.

how to rock like Emily Dickinson.

simple lovelies

leaning

good morning, neighbor.

imprecision

Persimmons

heaven unnoticed?

there is a lot number on my birth certificate.

I am...

this was acutally legal (promise)

-Howard Thurman

feel.

i have...

What? Me?

hot yoga + pitta?

namaste

how did i not see this during the election?

Rocka Chakra

you see me rollin'

does it work?

juicy

my first green juice

Preston likes it here

home on the range

strange birds + five clams

It's 5:26.

today part I (from iphone pov)

today part II (from iphone pov)

dig

bubbles on a stream.

no more fudge-ickles.

po- po- po- poker face

It was about to rain.

It's raining, it's pouring, it's all relative.

The one in which she professes miracles.

The one that is ironic.

The one in which she is resentful.

This moment is the perfect teacher. No. This one.

Putting the ghetto in ghettoasis

honeysuckle, highlighters + red wine

Pretties.

Dear B + B's dad,

Oak Cliff Nature Preserve

Ghettoasis Treasures

Charlie, charlie, charlie.

The when in which she has a toomuh.

The one in which she pees her pants. Really.

The one in which she admits why she hasn't been writing.

The one in which she ponders sacrilege.

pieces + light

blue heron + ghettoasis

bog of eternal stench + b's dimples

The one in which her brother turns fourteen.

I hadn't been to the dentist in six years.

The one in which she has two comments and a question.

ostriches, suze orman + the virgin mary

What is Twitter?

वर्क आईटी.

new years in the ghettoasis

It's my 200th post!

‎"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."
Henry David Thoreau