spring comes finally, and summer close behind. we have just begun to dig in dirt and lay our heads back on tall lawn chairs under cool night breezes and smell the lilacs and then
97 degrees. hot winds. twisty sleep.
i am resisting air conditioning with all my might this year. someone in print recently compared the hot hot summer to the cold cold winter - in either case we settle in and forbid the elements from affecting our senses and our comfort. in the frost of winter we light candles and fires and cover up toasty in blankets, watch movies and fall to sleep early.
in the drenching sweat of summer we light candles (watch out for the effect of ceiling and floor fans), cover up in blankets (we like it cold), watch movies and fall asleep while the sun is still up.
funny this minnesota proposition of how well we fare in the event of extreme temperatures, and i realize that as for me, i close myself off to very cold and very hot, so that in very cold i can feel quite warm, in the very hot i can feel quite cool. even chilly.
the grass is always greener, the snow is always whiter, and the woman in front of you at the grocery store always always has way better hair than you.
always.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
wear a helmet!
i bought a new bike last weekend, a stunning and comfortable machine i hope to have forever. everyone i told said in return, "good for you, wear a helmet".
i used to think helmets were a good idea but kind of nerdy for less-than-racer types just out for a leisurely roll around the lake. but there are many who are much smarter than me who kept saying "wear a helmet".
$38 later i was delighted with my helmet, shiny, sleek and stylish. god i looked hot in that helmet. even though i'm just riding around the neighborhood...
"let's head for lake harriet, ok?" neighbor ted said with great enthusiasm as he admired my new bike and helmet. baby lucy was snuggled in the burly and i thought that sounded like an awfully long ride but i said
"ok!"
off we went. 16 miles later i am back home and loving the memory of that ride. gorgeous paths, fragrant blossoms arching overhead, and a sweet lemonade between there and here. lucy had crackers and learned the word "seagull" and we did see one unfortunate woman who crashed on the sidewalk and was taken away by lifelink.
she wasn't wearing a helmet.
ok everyone, lesson learned. enjoy the paths of this magnificent city, there is so much to see that i have never seen in my 30 years here. so much to explore.
and
wear a helmet.
i used to think helmets were a good idea but kind of nerdy for less-than-racer types just out for a leisurely roll around the lake. but there are many who are much smarter than me who kept saying "wear a helmet".
$38 later i was delighted with my helmet, shiny, sleek and stylish. god i looked hot in that helmet. even though i'm just riding around the neighborhood...
"let's head for lake harriet, ok?" neighbor ted said with great enthusiasm as he admired my new bike and helmet. baby lucy was snuggled in the burly and i thought that sounded like an awfully long ride but i said
"ok!"
off we went. 16 miles later i am back home and loving the memory of that ride. gorgeous paths, fragrant blossoms arching overhead, and a sweet lemonade between there and here. lucy had crackers and learned the word "seagull" and we did see one unfortunate woman who crashed on the sidewalk and was taken away by lifelink.
she wasn't wearing a helmet.
ok everyone, lesson learned. enjoy the paths of this magnificent city, there is so much to see that i have never seen in my 30 years here. so much to explore.
and
wear a helmet.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
the sound of silence
i spent my day today with several other people and we all were silent. the only thoughts i could hear were my own, and even some of those i pushed away in an effort to
just be.
silence is a lovely thing and we all were mindful as we slipped into various states of calm. we meditated on those we love and those we don't. we meditated on mountains and flew gently like eagles and windmills. we pushed and pulled the ocean, rowed across the big lake, and held the sun and moon in our outstretched hands.
when the silence was broken, we spoke very little. all of what is inside of us is still in residence there, but we have had a better look at it.
still, it is hard to describe.
may you have peace and love, health and strength, care and protection,
and may you live your life
with joy and ease.
namaste.
just be.
silence is a lovely thing and we all were mindful as we slipped into various states of calm. we meditated on those we love and those we don't. we meditated on mountains and flew gently like eagles and windmills. we pushed and pulled the ocean, rowed across the big lake, and held the sun and moon in our outstretched hands.
when the silence was broken, we spoke very little. all of what is inside of us is still in residence there, but we have had a better look at it.
still, it is hard to describe.
may you have peace and love, health and strength, care and protection,
and may you live your life
with joy and ease.
namaste.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
dana
a young attorney at 24, she tried cases wearing mini-skirts. she played bass guitar in a country western band. she is an accomplished chef, musician, pastor, intellectual, counselor,
and a good friend.
she worked at our place a decade ago, and when i heard she was coming back i wrote to an old friend and asked "what should i expect from this person, this leader? what advice do you have?" and my friend told me
"she will ask you hard questions, things you have never thought about. she will want you to do well. never lie to her, and most of all, appreciate every moment you can spend with her. she will amaze you."
that she did and that she does.
this afternoon amidst a throng of good people wishing good things, we sadly said farewell. eloquent tributes, funny stories, cake and flipflops - all were a part of the celebration of her. she will be truly missed but there is an organization out there so lucky, so lucky to place her at their helm. they don't know how her presence will change them,
as it changed me.
it was hard to say goodbye, it made me cry, so i gave her a hug and left her a card and hopefully i said what i needed to say but there are not enough words to tell someone who has lifted you up so many times how much they have meant to you. loss is hard.
i was poised at a stoplight on my home on this perfect spring afternoon. straight ahead and up high and out of no where, a balloon shaped like a gold star, with a sparkling curly string attached flew and blew over the cathedral of st paul. it twirled and danced and flew higher and higher and i watched it as long as i could as it flew out of sight.
beautiful things touch our lives, and then they fly away.
the best to you always, my friend
i thank you with love
for everything.
and a good friend.
she worked at our place a decade ago, and when i heard she was coming back i wrote to an old friend and asked "what should i expect from this person, this leader? what advice do you have?" and my friend told me
"she will ask you hard questions, things you have never thought about. she will want you to do well. never lie to her, and most of all, appreciate every moment you can spend with her. she will amaze you."
that she did and that she does.
this afternoon amidst a throng of good people wishing good things, we sadly said farewell. eloquent tributes, funny stories, cake and flipflops - all were a part of the celebration of her. she will be truly missed but there is an organization out there so lucky, so lucky to place her at their helm. they don't know how her presence will change them,
as it changed me.
it was hard to say goodbye, it made me cry, so i gave her a hug and left her a card and hopefully i said what i needed to say but there are not enough words to tell someone who has lifted you up so many times how much they have meant to you. loss is hard.
i was poised at a stoplight on my home on this perfect spring afternoon. straight ahead and up high and out of no where, a balloon shaped like a gold star, with a sparkling curly string attached flew and blew over the cathedral of st paul. it twirled and danced and flew higher and higher and i watched it as long as i could as it flew out of sight.
beautiful things touch our lives, and then they fly away.
the best to you always, my friend
i thank you with love
for everything.
Monday, April 27, 2009
rituals
i keep wondering which way to go. a different direction is completely necessary but what happens when i find yourself lost in a new neighborhood? how do i get out? how do i find my way home?
aha! you don't get out! you make a new home! or fit differently in the one you come back to, in a warm and pleasant way.
there is a canadian tribe of indians who place the shoulder bone of a caribou over a hot fire to find out where next they should hunt. when the bone cracks, they take it off the fire and use it for a map. they may not know exactly where they will end up but their belief in the ritual brings the caribou there. if they went back to the same place where they had success the first time, eventually the herd would be gone.
in this case belief replaces convention, belief is bigger than hope, belief in something important is a means to survival and a way of life.
believing is a good ritual.
aha! you don't get out! you make a new home! or fit differently in the one you come back to, in a warm and pleasant way.
there is a canadian tribe of indians who place the shoulder bone of a caribou over a hot fire to find out where next they should hunt. when the bone cracks, they take it off the fire and use it for a map. they may not know exactly where they will end up but their belief in the ritual brings the caribou there. if they went back to the same place where they had success the first time, eventually the herd would be gone.
in this case belief replaces convention, belief is bigger than hope, belief in something important is a means to survival and a way of life.
believing is a good ritual.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
sometimes nothing is good enough
i dreamt last night of trying very hard to get someplace and never arriving. there were too many things in my way that i had to step over, so many problems that snuck up on me - like lost keys and soda that was much too warm, children toppling over store displays, and a sprained ankle.
all i wanted was to have a glass of wine on the porch, some porch, some porch that was home and there were people there who loved me. for some reason i didn't love them back but they made me feel welcome, and i finally got that glass of wine, but it was pink.
a moment or two after i awoke this morning the thunder started, then the rain, and i smiled so hard as i turned into the pillow, fluffed it, sat up, and prepared for a perfect sunday in the rain. plenty to do but nothing will get done today, because today nothing is a good enough thing to be a part of.
i watched "the three faces of eve" and i loved all of her faces. especially when they all came together. all the parts of her that didn't make sense lay quietly down to the strong part and she lived happily ever after with a hansome guy and a curly headed child. and they had ice cream cones just before the credits rolled.
in real life the real eve did not experience such a happy ending, her search for one face went on for another 18 years and i am not sure she ever found peace and wholeness and that is sad.
i wonder how many faces i have and i know that they know each other but they don't always get along. and i wonder when one of those faces will be stronger than the others, and show us all what for!
someday she will. but not today, because on this rainy sunday we are celebrating
nothing.
all i wanted was to have a glass of wine on the porch, some porch, some porch that was home and there were people there who loved me. for some reason i didn't love them back but they made me feel welcome, and i finally got that glass of wine, but it was pink.
a moment or two after i awoke this morning the thunder started, then the rain, and i smiled so hard as i turned into the pillow, fluffed it, sat up, and prepared for a perfect sunday in the rain. plenty to do but nothing will get done today, because today nothing is a good enough thing to be a part of.
i watched "the three faces of eve" and i loved all of her faces. especially when they all came together. all the parts of her that didn't make sense lay quietly down to the strong part and she lived happily ever after with a hansome guy and a curly headed child. and they had ice cream cones just before the credits rolled.
in real life the real eve did not experience such a happy ending, her search for one face went on for another 18 years and i am not sure she ever found peace and wholeness and that is sad.
i wonder how many faces i have and i know that they know each other but they don't always get along. and i wonder when one of those faces will be stronger than the others, and show us all what for!
someday she will. but not today, because on this rainy sunday we are celebrating
nothing.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
please sign here
we met each other head on but gently at the top of lane 3. the neighborhood grocer is one i try to avoid, but sometimes you are depsperate and just totally need a package of whole wheat tortillas and a people magazine.
we both turned into the check out lane at the same time. it seemed to startle her, but i was in no hurry, and so told her
'"no, you go ahead".
she was surprised at this kindness, almost suspicious, as i had two items and she had more than that, but when i smiled and said - please you first, she smiled back and started placing her items on the belt.
a bag of tortilla chips, a bottle of welches grape juice, some fresh celery, and a few other things. an odd assortment of flavors that don't go together but sometimes you get a ferocious craving for things you want because you have not tasted that particular thing for a very long time.
perhaps the was the case and perhaps not.
she looked familiar, so familiar.
i noticed her outfit and everything about her, there was something that asked me to look at her and so i did. a half-cowl turtleneck, long denim circle skirt with tiny zipper accents, and brown boots. her hair was full and soft red and tossled; blue eyes, silver earrings.
her total was $21.13 and when he told her that her eyes widened and she panicked for a moment - "do i sign or not?" she hovered over the card scanner and twiddled the electronic pen as if she had never done such a thing but wanted you to know she knew all about this machine. she seemed to want to do everything right.
i know her, i am sure i know her
or at least i know about her. we all do.
is it really her? thinking back to photos of a weary face deep with wrinkles, white hair and sad eyes...but who wouldn't look like that? who wouldn't look like that?!
she took her groceries outside to her van, her light brown van, and i wondered if it was pleasant or mournful to be in that van. She climbed into that brown van with her brown paper bag, and then she drove away.
i had read so much about her these past few years and weeks, easy to form an opinion when one side of the story is printed in black and white while you enjoy coffee and pajamas and freedom.
seems to me we all do our time, in one way or another.
surely she has done hers.
and on this saturday afternoon, here she was alive in front of me, vulnerable, awake, and frightened.
not a story in a newspaper.
a lovely breathing woman, just buying some stuff
and wondering how cash cards work.
we both turned into the check out lane at the same time. it seemed to startle her, but i was in no hurry, and so told her
'"no, you go ahead".
she was surprised at this kindness, almost suspicious, as i had two items and she had more than that, but when i smiled and said - please you first, she smiled back and started placing her items on the belt.
a bag of tortilla chips, a bottle of welches grape juice, some fresh celery, and a few other things. an odd assortment of flavors that don't go together but sometimes you get a ferocious craving for things you want because you have not tasted that particular thing for a very long time.
perhaps the was the case and perhaps not.
she looked familiar, so familiar.
i noticed her outfit and everything about her, there was something that asked me to look at her and so i did. a half-cowl turtleneck, long denim circle skirt with tiny zipper accents, and brown boots. her hair was full and soft red and tossled; blue eyes, silver earrings.
her total was $21.13 and when he told her that her eyes widened and she panicked for a moment - "do i sign or not?" she hovered over the card scanner and twiddled the electronic pen as if she had never done such a thing but wanted you to know she knew all about this machine. she seemed to want to do everything right.
i know her, i am sure i know her
or at least i know about her. we all do.
is it really her? thinking back to photos of a weary face deep with wrinkles, white hair and sad eyes...but who wouldn't look like that? who wouldn't look like that?!
she took her groceries outside to her van, her light brown van, and i wondered if it was pleasant or mournful to be in that van. She climbed into that brown van with her brown paper bag, and then she drove away.
i had read so much about her these past few years and weeks, easy to form an opinion when one side of the story is printed in black and white while you enjoy coffee and pajamas and freedom.
seems to me we all do our time, in one way or another.
surely she has done hers.
and on this saturday afternoon, here she was alive in front of me, vulnerable, awake, and frightened.
not a story in a newspaper.
a lovely breathing woman, just buying some stuff
and wondering how cash cards work.
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