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. 

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

peace blooms, slowly and always

today i received a small package, and though the token inside was offered without verbal or written explanation, it brought me a sense of solace. this time has been marked by larger shifts than i am accustomed to and has left me longing for something to hold onto. for those who have offered such small tokens - just to have something to hold to -  i am very grateful.

i found this poem recently, or rather i should say, this poem found me recently, and its sentiment has not been lost. 

When great trees fall,

rocks on distant hills shudder,

lions hunker down

in tall grasses,

and even elephants

lumber after safety.

When great trees fall

in forests,

small things recoil into silence,

their senses

eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,

the air around us becomes

light, rare, sterile.

We breathe briefly.

our eyes briefly,

see with

hurtful clarity.

Our memory, suddenly sharpened,

examines,

gnaws on kind words

unsaid,

promised walks 

never taken.

Great souls die and 

our reality, bound to

them, takes leave of us.

Our souls,

dependent upon their

nurture,

now shrink, wizened.

Our minds, formed

and informed by their 

radiance,

fall away.

We are not so much maddened

as reduced to the unutterable ignorance

of dark, cold

caves.

And when great souls die,

after a period peace blooms,

slowly and always

irregularly. Spaces fill

with a kind of 

soothing electric vibration.

Our senses, restored, never

to be the same, whisper to us,

They existed. They existed,

We can be. Be and be

better. For they existed.

- maya angelou, CELEBRATIONS

 

"beautiful ordinary"

gerhard richter was said to paint images without glory, to render the beautiful ordinary. i have thought often about the possibility of "rendering the beautiful ordinary," and have wondered if such a feat was possible. i have been honored to be in the company of many individuals that i would consider truly beautiful, and often, it has been in their company that i have doubted the possibility of rendering a person so stunning as simply "ordinary". 

but then, it has also occurred to me, that part of why i have found these people, these individuals that i admire, so stunning is not because of what is extraordinary about them (of which the number is countless), but is because of their genuine humanity. it seems that few people are willing to genuinely embrace their humanity along with the humanity of others. honoring that aspect of ourselves i feel requires intense humility and compassion.  these individuals that i have had the honor to know, have embraced themselves honestly, and embraced those around them with a similar compassion. how beautiful it is to recognize the humanity in ourselves and in others, and to do so with the intention of loving kindness!

in this regard then, is "beauty" simply synonymous with acknowledging that which is "ordinary?" did richter have it backwards, and is understanding how "ordinary" each of us is inseparable from finding that which is also beautiful in us? 

i remember sitting one evening in the company of one of these beautiful people, and finding myself awestruck by his character; how impressed i was by the humanity of this individual! i remember him repeating again and again that there was nothing special about him, and that he was simply "ordinary". i was dumbfounded, and struggled to find what, if anything, was ordinary about him. what i have realized since that time, is that what i loved about him was his ordinary humanity, and it was because of  that humanity that everything else was rendered beautiful.  

i have spent much time looking at the reflections cast by one of richter's grey paintings currently displayed at the st. louis art museum. it seems to me that the muted reflections invoke one to look beyond the superficial flaws and colors of oneself, and to simply look at ourselves in conjunction with the reflections of the light being cast upon the glass. in effect, we are invited to look beyond the superficial and observe an aspect of our simple, ordinary, humanity. perhaps, only when we find, and embrace that which is ordinary and human in ourselves and others, can we begin to see that which is also beautiful. and so perhaps, perhaps, richter was not trying to render the "beautiful" as "ordinary," but rather, he was trying render the "beautiful ordinary."

fantastic hat

this morning as i was sitting in my room on the floor, i took notice of my running shoes tossed in front of my dresser. when i saw them, i felt like i was looking at an artifact left behind by someone dear to my heart. seeing them brought the same sense of comfort one gets when something reminds them of an old friend, yet i was also somewhat bothered. i've been feeling as of late that perhaps i've been ignoring certain aspects of my character, and seeing those shoes reminded me of yet another love i've been neglecting. i've been thinking about why i've let slip some things i used to hold dearly, though mostly such thought as left me feeling as if i was confined to my circumstances, boxed in without my consent. in response to such confinement, my rebellious tendencies have been emerging. not generally being one to lose sight of all practicality (though i think practicality is somewhat overrated, and in some instances completely worthless), i've refrained (thus far) from doing anything particularly drastic. i have, however, recently become the proud owner of yet another truly fantastic hat. i do not believe that we can be at peace with ourselves when we ignore our true selves, our higher selves, and thus, my personal declaration begins, with one truly fantastic hat.

as an aside, another fantastic endeavor includes reading. oodles of reading. i just finished Life of Pi, and have since delved into 1984. i have not decided my feelings about Life of Pi just yet, but the adventure was thought provoking. below is an excerpt that i happened to really like:

"if you stumble at mere believability, what are you living for? isn't love hard to believe?"
"mr. patel--"
"don't bully me with your politeness! love is hard to believe, ask any lover. life is hard to believe, ask any scientist. God is hard to believe, ask any believer. what is your problem with hard to believe?"
"we're just being reasonable."
"so am i ! i applied reason at every moment. reason is excellent for getting food, clothing and shelter. reason is the very best tool kit. nothing beats reason for keeping away from tigers. but be excessively reasonable and you risk throwing out the universe with the bathwater."

-yann martel, Life of Pi