Tuesday, May 27, 2008

exhaustion

these past few weeks have been filled.  the culmination of classes, the start of new research, the marriage of friends, the anniversary of events now turned to distant memories, the preparation for a maiden voyage to costa rica, and most recently, the welcoming of my nephew - Ethan Taylor. my life has become a whirlwind, though i am grateful for the happiness that i am so honored to be a part of. i do not think i express often enough my gratitude for the opportunity to share in someone else's joy, for i am truly grateful. 

after watching my sister labor for roughly 12 hours, it has crossed my mind that events of our lives that bring glowing happiness may also leave us utterly and completely exhausted. i have so many things to be grateful for these past several months - yet i do not deny that i am also unbelievably tired. i contend: perhaps exhaustion is not a sign of weakness (i dare say no one could characterize a woman that just gave birth as "weak"), but rather, perhaps it is a sign of experiencing something(s) really, really wonderful. 

from such a perspective, i am very very tired, but i am equally  very very happy, and very very grateful. 

Monday, March 3, 2008

new babies....

just about anyone who would read this blog is aware of my fondness for plants. well, here are the newest additions to my 'blossoming' family (or at least representative images of them). note, the pink one has not been definitively identified, and the chartreuse one is my/amy conley's (fellow orchid lover) best guess. corrections and/or further insights are welcome. care tips are also appreciated as i am a novice with this plant family, and i am somewhat apprehensive about my abilities to help them thrive... 

top: paphiopedilum primulinum var. flavum
bottom: phalaenopsis (unknown species and/or hybrid)






Sunday, February 17, 2008

letting go

the other day i heard news that a woman in a lab downstairs from mine gave birth to a baby girl - the excited father spread word of the news shortly following her birth, ensuring all that both mother and child were doing well. later that same day, another message was sent relaying the tragic news that the baby had passed away. for  but a few moments, we all shared in this family's joy, and quite suddenly, the joy was replaced with sorrow. 

i have thought a lot about the nature of life passing. the movement of time and place can be quite jarring for one's senses, particularly when joy is so quickly followed by utter sorrow without space to buffer our emotional and mental experiences. yet, the fact of the matter is that all moments of life are fleeting. all experiences of life, however intense or jarring, are finite. all things arise, abide, and subside. 

that last part bears repeating - all things arise, abide, and subside. 

when experiences of joy are so quickly replaced by experiences of sorrow, i have a tendency to doubt the existence of the former. but the truth of the matter is that the experiences of joy are just as real as any experience of sadness - they arise, abide, and like all things, subside. 

given the fleeting nature of life, and of our experiences in general, i suppose our duty then is to honor each moment as it comes, and then practice the art of letting go. however, as a person who is in constant practice of such an art, i admit that the knowledge of the fleeting nature of life in no way mitigates the challenge of letting go, and for that matter, the challenge of honoring each moment. letting go is one of the hardest things i have been forced to do in my life, and the process is ongoing. it is true that each moment of letting go is a moment of experiencing loss, yet it also seems true that as we let go of one moment we create space for the next. and, in each new moment we find another opportunity to find a sense of joy. 
 

Monday, February 11, 2008

reverence

     - lois greenfield, BODYSCAPES 

since learning of the deaths of my sister and my niece, my perception of many things seems to have been enhanced, while for others things its been subdued. there are a number of things - the weather, the news, the day - that I seem to be somewhat oblivious to. while other things - reckless drivers (actually, reckless behavior in general), the tone of someone's voice, language, the coming and going of life - that i seem to be particularly sensitive to. i have also been noticing my own personal sensitivity to being touched. i find myself guarded, and find that my personal 'bubble,' so to speak,  has decreased its overall permeability. for someone who normally identifies as a 'cuddler', and enjoys activities such as AcroYoga, in which personal space is unheard of, this realization is somewhat surprising. i have recognized this increased sensitivity, and thought a lot about the how/when/why of it, and it seems that my sensitivity corresponds with a higher reverence for which i hold the human body, and the connection i find between my body and my emotions. in spite of how resilient our bodies are, and the miracles of medicine, there are some things that the flesh simply cannot withstand. indeed, there are limits to what our body can tolerate. regardless of your belief system, i think most would agree that the connection between emotional and mental well-being are integrally a part of our physical well-being - i personally find the three inexorably linked. i am finding myself, lately, not only more aware of the workings of my physical body, but of its relationship to my being as a whole. my heart broke when i heard about my sister's passing, and broke further still as i learned about the manner in which she and my niece were killed. suddenly, life seems so utterly precious, and these vessels that enable us to live seem so utterly fragile. not only my body, but those of others have also become ever so much more dear to me. the thought of another hurting someone - physically, emotionally, mentally - seems so inexplicable, and indeed, given the union of the three it seems that an injury to either - if severe enough - could be too much for life to handle. i have always tended to revere the human body, and now my heightened senses seem to elicit an even higher degree of sanctity for the body, and for life. it seems almost as if a veil has been lifted and with the increased clarity i am finally able to see just how precious, dear, and beautiful some things integral to this life are. as with all new knowledge i'm sure such clarity comes with a certain level of responsibility, and i suppose it will be a grand, and perhaps life long mission to discover what such responsibility entails.  


Saturday, January 19, 2008

forgetfulness

suddenly i know a lot about fountains,
those incomprehensible trees of glass.
i could talk now as of my own tears,
which i, gripped by such fantastic dreaming,
spilled once and then somehow forgot. 

- rumi, from ABOUT FOUNTAINS

i have been thinking about forgetfulness and clumsiness these days. i had always felt that people, including myself, tend to operate within a certain domain around their quintessential selves. certainly, there is a degree of deviation from center depending upon our present milieu, yet by and large there is always a center, a place of equipoise to return to when events in life throw our balance.

these days, searching for my center has become a routine venture. this venture of mine has left me frustrated and occasionally embarrassed because i am realizing that my poise isn't where i remember it being. i find myself forgetting, and i find myself clumsy in my ability to maintain my grasp to what i thought was my center.

i've been pondering this situation of mine for a bit, and i've considered the fact that perhaps while typically  people tend to operate within a certain sphere around their quintessential self, certain events in life can cause the entire center to shift (something to the effect of being uprooted and re-planted elsewhere.) this shift, which is nothing less than jarring i assure you, moves the entire center - it still exists, it is just in a new location.

in consideration of this shift, it has occurred to me that perhaps my forgetfulness  and clumsiness are truly assets.  we humans tend to hold onto things. we confine ourselves to our own hearts, terrified of letting something leak out. perhaps we're afraid of exposing the contents of our hearts to the elements of the world. perhaps we're afraid of rejection. perhaps we're afraid that once we open the door we won't be able to control what gets out, and who gets in. and so with conscious effort, we hold on - protecting our hearts from harm and confining it to its shells. these fears, by the by, are empty - i remember my brother once telling me to stop worrying so much (at the time, and many times since, i worried a lot about my heart) because i always assumed the worse and was at risk of missing out on something truly beautiful happening in my life. his comment was most penetrating, and in my opinion quite on point. but, in spite of the irrationality of the fears that keep us holding onto to our hearts, we still feel compelled to grasp. but, what happens when events in our lives create a drastic shift in our hearts? what happens when the shift is stronger than our grasp can hold and renders our roots exposed? what happens when the core of our being is re-planted in a new location? 

it seems my friends, that an ideal approach to such a jarring shift is to embrace forgetfulness and clumsiness; to let slip away from us our concept of being, and to release the grasp on our hearts. 

he told me that once 
he forgot himself  and his
heart opened up like a door
with a loose latch
and everything fell out and
he tried for days to put 
it all back in the proper
order, but finally he gave up and left it there
in a pile and loved
everything equally. 

- biran andreas, OPEN HEART

even exposed and in pieces and transplanted to a new location, the contents of our hearts and fibers of our being maintain themselves - nothing is ever truly lost. when we try to hold onto the places where we think our hearts and our cores should be, perhaps we are actually doing ourselves a disservice by not allowing ourselves to discover new earth. can we let go of ourselves for a moment? can we release ourselves from the confines of our fears and in so doing allow our unclenched heart spill over into its new earth? can we allow ourselves to forget to hold on for a moment and embrace the movement of our core? can we, in clumsy forgetfulness, open ourselves to the potential of a new center? can we stop worrying so much and assuming to worse for our expose hearts and allow something beautiful to happen?

it seems that perhaps i should forget myself and my human compulsion to hold, and in my clumsiness, let slip the latches on my heart.... and suddenly, i feel like i know a lot about fountains. 

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

i am woman, hear me roar

woman and man

i was chatting with my mother this evening, when the movie Pete's Dragon came up. for those who don't know, its an old disney film about an orphaned boys who finds a friend in a dragon named Pete, and a home with a family of lighthouse keepers. the soundtrack happens to be excellent, with cheerful lyrics such as "it's not easy to share somebody's dream, it gets easy when you work as a team," and "i'll be your candle on the water." i commented that the lead female actress, helen reddy, had a beautiful voice. my mother, whom is a surprising wealth of all music-related trivia, informed me of another song that ms. reddy, happens to be known for , i am woman. 

just yesterday, in response to a question i was asked about my being, i felt compelled to respond with the all meaningful and blanket statement of "i am woman." in my thinking, the statement carries an intense amount of power, and an intense amount of meaning. over the years, i suppose we all go through phases where we question our identity and try to "find" ourself. for a variety of reasons, this past year and these past few months in particular, have caused me to recognize, embrace, and honor my womanhood more than ever. indeed, my identity as a woman has become precious to me, and is something i am proud to define myself by. 

the song by ms. reddy is from another time, but i believe the sentiment remains true. as i come to understand my own femininity, i am realizing the there is a unity among women that transcends age, and time. as an individual that also defines herself as an "Obie," i feel compelled to state that my reference to the unity among women extends to anyone who identifies as a woman, and to affirm that 'my people' are those that truly love women...

i am woman, hear me roar
in number too big to ignore
and i know too much to go back an' pretend
'cause i've heard it all before
and i've been down there on the floor
no one's ever gonna keep me down again
oh yes i am wise
but its wisdom born of pain
yes, i've paid the price
but look how much i gained
if i have to, i can do anything
i am strong (strong)
i am invincible (invincible)
i am woman
you can bend but never break me
'cause it only serves to make me
more determined to achieve my final goal
and i come back even stronger
not a novice any longer
'cause you've deepened the convictions in my soul
i am woman watch me grow
see me standing toe to toe
as i spread my lovin' arms across the land
but i'm still an embryo
with a long way to go
until i make my brother understand
oh yes i am wise
buts its wisdom born of pain
yes, i've paid the price
but look how much i gained
if i have to i can face anything
i am strong (strong)
i am invincible (invincible)
i am woman
oh, i am woman
i am invincible
i am strong
                     - helen reddy, I AM WOMAN