I have moved to my poetry blog, Aenigmas, for a change of pace.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Amplifying Perspective on “The Oscar Incident”
This is such a nuanced, compassionate, and multi-layered comment on what happened at the Oscars. It is definitely worth the time to read.
A Costume for Our Times
The Plague Doctor
Changes
It’s September! Usually this month energizes me. I associate it with back to school and new beginnings, despite the fact that school starts in mid-August here.
“Even as we fret about the changes our progress wreaks in the air and on the airwaves, in forests and on streets, we hardly worry about the changes it is working in ourselves, the new kind of soul that is being born out of a new kind of life. Yet this could be the most dangerous development of all, and the least examined.”
– Pico Iyer
The above quote speaks to how I feel about the times. And alas, that’s all I have to share for this moment.
Standing Still
2 Replies
It’s been a year of change, and for me this has shown up as being the one who is left behind.
Shortly after my mother died in March, I learned that four unrelated close friends of mine are moving away. One moved three hours away, another back to Texas, and a third one, today, is leaving for Colorado. My fourth friend is still searching for somewhere out of the bay area to land, and I’m confident they will be gone by end of summer.
It happens to us all. Having been left, and having twice been the one leaving, I know it is harder to be left. The person departing is focused forward, on new adventures, on change (most often) of their own design. I know my friends will miss me. It’s just that I feel acutely, right now, how immobile I am. I don’t even necessarily want to move anywhere. It’s just that this pandemic has stopped everything.
My mother’s death still feels abstract. She was 3,000 miles away, and I couldn’t travel to bury her. My friend who is leaving today used to be part of my daily life, but the pandemic shut that down. We’ve still connected by text, Marco Polo, and a few socially distanced walks. The first two options remain.
It’s just hard to wave good-bye when I’m the one standing still.
So it’s time to be gentle, let myself feel sad, and important to not attach to the feeling and get stuck in this story. And maybe it’s time for a little chocolate.
Gratitude
In the middle of a pandemic, it’s tempting to wallow in the bad news. This means it’s equally important to make note of the good in the day. So here is my list:
- People have kindly offered to grocery shop for me.
- A friend made a couple of masks for our family, and another friend has promised to make one.
- I talked with one of my sisters today on a video chat, and saw my dad to say hi.
- Our internet connection was mostly non-glitchy.
- Bean and I devoured a huge bowl of popcorn as we watch an episode of Cosmos followed by an episode of the Great British Baking Show.
- I enjoyed a navel orange from my tree.
- We had an evening family walk after our family dinner.
- Flowers are blooming and gorgeous.
- I’m healthy.
- The day began soft and easy.
- My daughter seemed less anxious today.
- I savored my breath.
English Toffee Recipe
English Toffee
1 cup butter
1.5 cups white sugar
3 Tbsp. water
3 Tbsp. light corn syrup
2 cups toasted almonds (slivers or flakes)
8 oz. semisweet baking chocolate (bar, chips, etc.)
Candy thermometer
1 qt. pot
2 qt. pot
double boiler pot
13×9 inch pan
cookie sheet
silicone spatulas
parchment paper
- Grease a 13 x 9 inch pan with some butter on bottom and sides. Put 1 cup of almonds in a bowl handy by the stove. Keep the pan close by.
- Put parchment paper on a large cookie sheet.
- Put water in the larger pot and set the double boiler on top. Put chocolate in. Break up if it’s baking bar chocolate. Turn heat on medium. The water will heat up and the chocolate will melt.
- Put butter, sugar, water, and corn syrup into the smaller pot. Turn stove on to medium. Affix the thermometer inside the pot so it makes contact with the melted ingredients but doesn’t touch the bottom.
- Stir constantly while mixture cooks. When it reaches 300F on the candy thermometer, remove from heat, add almonds and stir quickly, then pour the entire mixture into the 13×9 pan. Use a spatula to spread it evenly on the bottom of the pan. It cools quickly.
- Let the candy cool in the pan. (You can put it in the fridge to speed it up.)
- Once cool, gently turn the pan over onto the parchment paper and press. The candy should drop onto the paper.
- Using a spatula, spread half of the melted chocolate on the candy, then sprinkle .5 cup of almonds over the top. Allow it to set. (Again, refrigerate to speed it up.)
- Turn the block of candy over carefully and coat that side with remaining chocolate. Sprinkle with remaining almonds. Let set.
- Try not to eat it all at once.
This can be broken into smaller pieces for gifts.
An Attachment
There is nothing wrong with learning, or reading and owning books. Yet I recognize in myself an attachment to a delusion that words can end my suffering. Books represent security to me — the idea that if I read enough, learn enough, I can control life. I can create safety. The awareness that I don’t know enough, and that words and ideas will impart wisdom. Sometimes I tell myself I need to purchase a book because I cannot borrow it from the public library even via interlibrary loan (I like to read somewhat uncommon titles). At the root of this story, however, is the reflexive movement toward the familiar role of student. I delay action and avoid discomfort by returning to a role I know so intimately.
In the past I’ve purged books from my shelves. I engage in a little dance with the books that remain, telling myself that some of them I will probably use sometime (they number in hundreds). It’s an interesting experience to look at a book and decide whether it departs, and why. Sometimes I feel like a queen hoarding and counting her gold pieces.
And yet, books have been steady companions in my life.
Polymer Clay Play
I began a painting over a month ago, but work on it has stalled. I did a little work on it today but it frustrated me. The urge to create something was almost overwhelming, so I turned to a different medium: polymer clay. I just desperately needed to make something. The result — three Christmas ornaments and two ring dishes. They are very petite. Just right for a stocking stuffer. I’m not sure who will be the recipients, and maybe I will just release them into the world.
Don’t Fear the Reaper
https://www.facebook.com/mindfulone/posts/10205956425547903
Doing All The Things
I struggle to balance my activities. It seems to me that there are some that I can do every single day without fail, and some I would like to do every day, but can’t manage.
Autonomic bodily activities (breathing, digesting, excreting) and survival tasks (eating, sleeping) are guaranteed to happen. Duh, right?
But then there are things that help my soul, my physical and mental health, that I just don’t get to each day. So I prioritize.
Everyday I:
- brush teeth
- drink coffee
- meditate 5-30 minutes
- read (book, magazines)
Other things I would like to do every day:
- make art
- work out or take a walk
Things I ought to probably do every day:
- shower
- clean or tidy one area of the house
- interact with people
The thing about making art is that I like to get lost in the process. This takes time. There is not always a chunk of free time for it. Working out is similar. I can get some steps in, but a dedicated sustained workout is not always feasible. And yet, both of them feel nearly as necessary as food. I get depressed when I don’t do them. I have gone months without doing either. Everyone around me had to bear the result.
Regarding people, I interact with my husband and daughter, of course. I like solitude. Yet sometimes I get more of it than I need. I can tell, because I start to feel a little disembodied.
So Tenderly
“It happens
all the time in heaven,
And some day
It will begin to happen
Again on earth –
That men and women
who are married,
And men and men
who are
Lovers,
And women and women
Who give each other
Light,
Often will get down
on their knees
And while so tenderly
Holding their lover’s hand,
With tears in their eyes,
Will sincerely speak, saying,
“‘My dear,
How can I be
more loving to you;
How can I be more
Kind?'”
~ Hafiz
A Break
Written last night, After a several day “extreme heat” spell.
————-
Hello, 63 degrees. I feel you gossiping with the trees. My windows are all grinning widely waiting for the breeze.
————-
A photo from last summer at Hume Lake…
Half Acre
Half Acre
I am holding half an acre
Torn from the map of Michigan
And folded in this scrap of paper
Is a land I grew in
Think of every town you’ve lived in
Every room, you lay your head
And what is it that you remember?
Do you carry every sadness with you
Every hour your heart was broken
Every night the fear and darkness
Lay down with you
A man is walking on the highway
A woman stares out at the sea
And light is only now just breaking
So we carry every sadness with us
Every hour our heart were broken
Every night the fear and darkness
Lay down with us
But I am holding half an acre
Torn from the map of Michigan
I am carrying this scrap of paper
That can crack the darkest sky wide open
Every burden taken from me
Every night my heart unfolding
My home
Dust to Dust
Dust to Dust
It’s not your eyes
It’s not what you say
It’s not your laughter that gives you away
You’re just lonely
You’ve been lonely, too long
All your actin’
Your thin disguise
All your perfectly delivered lies
They don’t fool me
You’ve been lonely, too long
Let me in the wall, you’ve built around
And we can light a match and burn it down
Let me hold your hand and dance ’round and ’round the flame
In front of us
Dust to dust
You’ve held your head up
You’ve fought the fight
You bear the scars
You’ve done your time
Listen to me
You’ve been lonely, too long
Let me in the wall, you’ve built around
And we can light a match and burn them down
And let me hold your hand and dance ’round and ’round the flames
In front of us
Dust to dust
You’re like a mirror, reflecting me
Takes one to know one, so take it from me
You’ve been lonely
You’ve been lonely, too long
We’ve been lonely
We’ve been lonely, too long
Note to Myself
Dear Me,
I’m writing you this note so you will remember… You just had a heartening, friendly, compassionate conversation with your neighbor who happened to be outside and called your name. It was 45 minutes of reciprocal connection. Notice how buoyant you feel. Remember how vital and alive your energy is right now, how you could ride this like a gentle rolling wave to carry you through the rest of today. You say you want to be a source of love for the world. It is as simple as pausing to say hello.
Love,
Yourself
State of the Dream
This Time of Year
The dark feels so heavy. Most of the time I prefer to see things, focused on what is reflected to me. Seeing and touching objects confirms my existence and sense of reality. I know where to travel. Without light reflecting off things, I notice the void. The void is without form. It is endless and terrifying. And yet… it is within darkness that I was conceived and took form within my mother’s body. And it is from the void of space that all form emerged, the elements, stars, planets, life. This time of year invites us to face the dark, and to sit with it long enough to accept it.
Advent 2017
Happy Advent!
Art Every Day Month #1
It’s been five years since I last participated, and my decision do it this year is impromptu. Here is my first one.
