Winter Haiku. Spring Day.
Earth day today and Portland was blessed with puffy white clouds against a blue sky, shining sun, and weather warm enough for a t-shirt. Our new fence was struck today, with well-placed posts setting up. A bed is cleared and ready to plant as well. Tomorrow may find us on a picnic or at a nursery buying veggie starts!
Today we had Indian food, shopped at the Japanese market, and I plotted art projects today and made a Japanese inspired, spring dinner with grilled tofu, asparagus, snow peas, a sushi roll and rice balls. It really was too nice a day to beat myself up over not having gotten more useful things done.
Here's a winter haiku for a spring day:
White clouds. Blue water.
Winter sun brings welcome warmth
To the grey season.
Water Clouds - Powell Butte, Portland, Oregon - January 2011
April in Portland
There reaches a point in Portland where the days really start to get longer and a little warmer. CK's Mom would still say it is cold here, but in Portland we're finally happy to put on light jackets, squint at the UV, and delight in the dryness of our stroll through the park.
This evening I got home and took Dora up to Peninsula Park for a quick walk. It made me late for a meeting, but it was so worth it. She rolled in the grass in doggy delight until a happy string of drool was plastered across her snout.
Most people in Portland are funny, smart, sweet and kind. Yes, there's a lot of weirdness, but I think Portlandia does us a disservice to some degree. And when the sun begins to shine and flowers pop out of the grass, people smile with such utter joy that I'm filled with such gratitude for my home.
Flowers peek from grass,
Lift up faces toward the sun.
Petals seeking warmth.
Tiny Flowers - Peninsula Park, Portland, Oregon - April 18, 2012
Spring Life
Goslings - Wilsonville, Oregon - April 17, 2012
I have the distinct pleasure of working at a campus that's a dedicated bird refuge. Small ponds and running water dot the campus and we see a fantastic variety of avian life. CK even gave me a bird book as a Christmas gift and I keep it on my desk in my office.
Spring brings flowers, rain, and both Canada and Cackling Geese. The Cackling look the same as the Canada geese, only smaller, and the flock largely together. We get to see them pairing off and today I spied eggs alongside one of the ponds near my building. I also spotted a first group of fuzzy goslings, which I stopped to admire despite the hissing parents.
Angry parent goose,
Hissing in disapproval
As I praise goslings.
Safe Choices
Today CK and I attempted a long, hard drive home from Sacramento. This is a drive we've done in one day before, but we'd stayed up late last night and we were enjoying the company of her Mom and step-dad this morning, which meant we got a late start. CK's stomach was really bothering her, probably a delay from the weekly antibiotics she's been taking for her suppressed immune system stuff.
We'd driven her "new" car down. While I had learned to drive it, a manual transmission, with relative ease, it wasn't something I felt confident in yet. We started to get rain and the car handles far, far differently in the mountain curves than my trusty Suburu, so CK resumed driving.
Then we passed the remainder of a really very bad accident, a smashed car resting on the roof, on a winding, mountain road.
We reached out to friends to take care of our cats tonight, found a good hotel room where Dora is welcome, and stopped for the night. I've sent a message on to work. We'll get up in the morning, reasonably early, but well rested, drive home and work from home tomorrow.
I was so profoundly relieved when we made this decision, that we have this tremendous luxury of being able to make this safe choice, that I realized that I wasn't beating myself up too much. The relief and gratitude are just so big that the thoughts that I should have practiced more with the new car or planned better are pretty quiet.
Really, I'm just grateful to be in a warm, safe, nice place with my wife and our dog. I know our kitties have been well looked after. I even got to sit in the hot tub we didn't know we'd have access to.
Sunset - Grants Pass, Oregon - April 13, 2012
Gratitude Wins
Above any
Nagging
Voice that
Says I
Should have
Done or said
Anything
Different or
Better.
There is
The awesome
Luxury of choosing
Caring for the self
Which
Offers a relief
That makes me
Giddy with gratitude.
Gratitude 2010
I really enjoy Thanksgiving and not just for the fabulous food. I love the idea of enjoying the fruits of the harvest right as winter draws near. I love sharing the day and the meal with loved-ones. I also particularly enjoy reflecting upon those things I am truly grateful for.
This year I decided to participate in a little letter writing project. The challenge was to make a list of 10 things you are grateful for in your life and to write a little about each thing. I decided to include a photograph for each item on the letters I'll be printing and mailing out this week. I enjoyed producing this list a lot and it seemed like a really good thing to add to my blog.
Halloween 2010!
1. My Health
I am currently 41 years old and thus far have managed to beat the odds stacked against me. Unlike all of the other women in my family I do not take any medication for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, or anything else related to heart-health. Nearly all of the women in my family were taking daily medication at my age. I also am only a little bit overweight, no longer morbidly obese. Although I do have chronic pain in my back from degenerative disc disease, it doesn’t prevent me from taking long walks, going on strenuous hikes, riding my bicycle, swimming, or practicing yoga. Moreover I have access to, and the ability to pay for vitamins, supplements and medication whenever I need it.
I'm in red and CK is in the snappy suit
2. My Wife
It has been a long journey to find my way to sharing my life with an amazing spouse. She is my best friend, my biggest ally, and an absolute inspiration. It is still hard. We live in a country that doesn’t recognize our marriage and the state we reside in passed a constitutional amendment a few years ago that defines “marriage” as something only a man and a woman may do. Despite all these limitations and refusals to recognize what is true, we held our wedding this past September regardless (that’s us just after the ceremony which took place in a park near our home). We may not be able to say we are “legally” wed, yet, so we announced that we are “lovingly” wed until the time when the laws catch up to our civil rights.
Our home with a little snow
3. Our Home
In a world where many people do not have a safe place to rest, we enjoy the amazing luxury of owning our own home (well, we have the ability to make mortgage payments). The two of us share our 3 bedrooms, living/dining room, bathroom, kitchen, and partially finished basement (where we have a TV if we want to watch a movie) with our 4 animal companions. Compared to much of the world we have a ridiculous amount of space in which we can accumulate countless books, enjoy my Grandmother’s china set, and decorate with any number of pieces of artwork we have collected. We also have a very large lot and are able to plant a large vegetable garden. Really, it is an amazing blessing even when there are all the tedious details and work of being home owners.
Photo by Kris Arnold
4. Access to clean water
I live in a city that is dotted with beautiful fountains. The downtown area features several public drinking fountains donated by a city founder in 1912. Water, safe water is everywhere. While we have easy access I am aware of places where children are sent miles on foot with 5 gallon buckets to get water for the day. They make these trips more than once in a day in some cases. Lack of access to clean water leads to all kinds of suffering and is such a simple, obvious blessing. (These are some of the “Benson Bubblers” near City Hall in Portland.)
Gorgeous display at the Farmers Market!
5. Access to a multitude of wholesome foods
Much of the world has inadequate food and people manage to eek out desperate lives on less than one USD $1 a day. Conversely, in many places people have access to calories, but not wholesome food. There are many areas that are veritable food deserts. Places where only a “convenience” store or a fast food establishment are the only options to get food. I am profoundly grateful for access to all kinds of wholesome, fresh foods. Not only do I have my choice of farmers markets during many months of the year, but I also have the ability to travel outside of my city to farm stands to buy produce. We receive a delivery of organic produce nearly every week. We also have a large vegetable garden in our yard. (pictured is the display at the farmers market)
image by @pdxdiver
6. Choice
I consider myself very fortunate to be able to make many choices in my life. I can send our my resumes to companies that both interest me and fit my skills. I have sufficient skills to find employment that allows me to choose where I life, choose the food I eat, pay easily for clothing, heat, water, electricity, and have access to all kinds of entertainment. Moreover I am able to participate in elections and I have a say as to what happens to my body. I am allowed an enormous number of choices in my life.
CK trying to get space to nap!
7. Our Animal Companions
I feel tremendously grateful to be able to have animal companions to share my life with. I am also grateful to be able to spend money to make sure they are healthy and have access to wholesome food best suited to them. One of our kitties has a minor health problem and requires special food; it is such a relief that we’re able to afford to do this for him. In return they provide us with hours of affection, entertainment, and connection. We currently have four cats and hope to eventually have a dog.
Pictured, from the top down (my wife trying to have a nap with Zonker, Puck, Oberon, and Phoebe to keep her warm)
Some friends at our wedding.
8. My Friends/Community
I am really blessed to be surrounded by compassionate, loving, intelligent, funny, giving, amazing people. At times they have been more of my “family” than those people related to me by genetic ties. They provide me with support, good ideas, wisdom, and at times they have the courage to tell me when I’m wrong!
When we put together the guest list for our wedding we were both touched at realizing just how many close, wonderful friends we have in our community. Pictured are some of the friends and family at our wedding.
Gorgeous Autumn Afternoon
9. My City
I live in Portland, Oregon. There have been very few places that I’ve ever considered moving to. I have lived in a handful of other places, but while doing so I longed to return to Portland. It is an amazing place filled with creative people, great food, bookstores, parks, trees, and lots of beauty. In general people are friendly and giving with their resources. I love my city.
Picture of Portland taken in a small park downtown, Director Park, recently.
Photo by Scott Mills
10. Books
I learned to read at a rather precocious age. The ability to pick up an object and have it tell me a story was magical. Books were my first and best friends as a child. They were both a refuge during unstable times and a constant source of knowledge. Books told me things about the world no family member would. As much as I love the Internet and the promise of instant information it fulfills, books will always be an important part of my life and my home will always be filled with them.
The photo shows a long view of the incomparable Powell's Books in Portland - I've been going there since I was old enough to be allowed on public transportation by myself!
Cup Gazing
The latest and greatest installment in what continues to unfold for me with this bit from Rumi:
Take sips of this pure wine being poured.
Don't mind that you've been given a dirty cup.
Last week I realized that I had a Tuesday evening completely free. Since I would be busy with Ignite Portland on Thursday I decided to go to the zazen and discussion held on Tuesdays. The leader for last Tuesday had suggested that people bring quotes or short readings that inspired their practice. I brought the Rumi.
When I shared it I commented that what has started to really get through to me are the two words, "Don't mind". These are the important bit, as my teacher had commented to me. When I don't mind the cup is stained, that's when the stains clean themselves. Just recently it has finally felt like I'm in a place where I am starting to get the whole not minding thing.
Fresh off my sharing at the Dharma center this little gem of Rumi's came up during a conversation with PB. How I've been working with it, seeing the cup as my life and the traumatic moments as the dirt on the cup. She offered that perhaps I should consider buying a new cup.
I immediately, passionately said that wasn't the point. I can look at all the ways I tried to keep re-inventing myself during my teens, 20s and into my 30s as merely trying to "buy a new cup". It doesn't work, you cannot buy or acquire your way out of this one. You have to work with the cup you're given.
I said that it also felt that wanting to discard the cup because it was dirty wasn't compassionate. In honoring the cup, using it, it equally honors the person I was. In particular it acknowledges and holds the child I was in loving-kindness. To want to get rid of the cup is to want to get rid of that child and she doesn't deserve that. Besides, that isn't the point.
One of the younger priests in my Zen community once suggested upon hearing this Rumi that "There is no cup."
While that's very Zen and strolls right along that uncertain path called "No Self", it misses the point. The cup, the dirty cup is an intrinsic part. We must have a cup in order to partake in the pure wine that is life.
The point is not minding the dirt.
Not minding that I was hurt doesn't mean I condone it, rather it means I don't see myself as intrinsically flawed because of the "stain" of those events. Yes, those events affected me greatly, still affect me, but they are not an indicator that something is wrong with me. None of it was my fault.
Which brings me to a mug I purchased at SFMOMA in May. The colors and the simple ginkgo leaf pattern make me smile, it was also on clearance in the gift shop (bonus!), and I drink tea from it pretty regularly.
Tea can be a pretty strong dye and in short order my new favorite mug for tea had acquired stains that the dishwasher doesn't affect.
Do I mind? No. Does it affect the tea? Not in the least. Is the cup still completely pleasing to me, stains and all? Yeah, absolutely. It isn't exactly self-cleaning, but I don't mind. Silly as it may seem, given that the stains appear on the mug not out of some act of violence or deception, but still this mug is a good reminder.
This cup holds my tea and if it is a green tea I can even appreciate the stains on it when I'm drinking from it. They indicate nothing more than the ability of strong liquids to leave a mark. It is the outcome of this mug having a life. A perfectly good mug and I like it stains and all.
My life shows the effects of everything that has happened to me. Some of those things leave me feeling pretty sad and hurt. Taken as a whole, I have learned a lot about not minding my life. I even have begun to relax occasionally into even enjoying it, not minding the stains at all.
Dust
I have been on a bit of a cleaning frenzy since yesterday. The house had become hugely chaotic with stuff not put away. It was just a mess, truly, and bugging both of us. Merely moving some things down to the basement where they belong (yoga props I'd loaned to a Dharma sister) and getting some things taken to our respective offices made a lot of difference. Today I've vacuumed, dusted, sorted, and organized some. That and laundry - I'm kind of tired, but it feels good to have things cleaner.
Amidst all of that frenzy, while dusting, my cane caught my eye. It is mixed in with rolled up yoga mats, hiking poles, and an old paper umbrella. The handle of it was covered in a rather thick layer of dust.
As I cleaned it off I was struck at how long it has been since I've used it. From 2000 until well into 2004 I would use it occasionally when the pain and weakness in my hips would necessitate the extra assist. I purchased a cool, lightweight one with the ability to be broken down like a tent pole. People commented on it a lot for the coolness factor and they were mostly too polite to comment on a woman in her 30s using one. I generally resented the hell out of it but admitted that I really needed it.
I'm not exactly sure when I moved my cane into the cluster of stuff. Sometime in the past couple of years it took up residence with the hiking poles, which feel like an accomplishment instead of an accommodation. My third yoga mat. CK's mat. The paper umbrella I've had for years; I've been pondering how to repair a tear in it and re-purpose into an art project. The cane had an impressive amount of dust on it.
I'm also not entirely sure when I stopped using it, even very occasionally. At some point it just became a thing in my house that I never interacted with. I didn't need it, so I never went looking for it.
What I am aware of is the meaning of that dusty handle. The lack of use, the accumulation of dust as the cane sits next to my scratched up hiking poles is a testament to my Yoga practice and to the hundreds I've spent on one form of therapy, including body work, or the other. Amusingly enough the dust is a rather powerful indicator of progress.
Yeah, there's still a truly mechanical failure I deal with. It does affect me, but now it is just another part of my physical practice. Tomorrow I'll probably really feel all the cleaning and organizing I've been doing the past couple of days. I'll most likely be moving a little slower, a little more cautiously. I might wake up with a bit of a groan.
Even still, I won't need that cane.
Thinking About AH in San Francisco
I've been.... Well, awfully busy for someone without a job. Let's see, I've been:
Taking Mom to see the naturopath/Chinese medicine doctor, plus errands, once a week for a few weeks. For those in the PDX Metro area that's from North Portland to Gresham to Lair Hill to Gresham to North Portland. For those for whom that makes no sense, just be assured that it is a lot of driving around. These days exhaust me physically and emotionally, often well into the following day.
I've been working with my Zen community to address the pain trying to practice with them as a vegan has been for CK and I. Trying to improve things for us all. This too is uncomfortable and painful. I feel singled out around being a vegan and experiencing this now reminds me that this sensation was one associated as dangerous as a child. It is very hard work to try and learn that being singled out can be an expression of loving-kindness.
I also have been making art and trying to work in the garden. These things have been really good.
CK and I also started making plans for our wedding ceremony. This is filled with all kinds of exciting emotions, mostly lovely.
Then CK got sick. Then I got it. Then we drove to L.A. to see Peter Gabriel perform, I was still quite sick. A day there and then driving up to San Francisco with a friend while CK took a flight back home to get to work. I was still sick and slept much of the drive up I5. The drive through the mountains, away from the Interstate was beautiful.
It was outside of Gilroy, CA, when I got the news that AH had died uxpectedly.
And it hit me in the chest, between the heart and the throat chakras. Hard, cold, dark, painful. Today's massage tried to work some of it loose.
Where I got the news the cellular signal wasn't great and CK was still in the air, flying home. Besides, I felt like I wanted to be stopped, not driving, somewhere safe to try and convey the news. I didn't phone her right away, waiting until I was parked outside my friends' house in San Francisco, alone to phone her. Ultimately she felt disappointed I hadn't left a message earlier. I just felt so stunned at the moment I got the news, I just froze.
I also started to think of my mother and all the challenges to her life I have witnessed, including those she dangers she chose. These memories found me as I drove alone out of Sunnyvale up I280 after dropping my friend off for a short visit there.
So there I was, in San Francisco, staying with one of my very closest friends, on vacation. There's really nothing could be solved by rushing home and KK, the friend I'm traveling has plans she is looking forward to as well. Heck, I have plans and many friends who enjoy my company who have made plans to spend time with me.
No amount of DO-ing will fix anything at all. There is this dichotomy of new pain, old pain, feelings of inadequacy, and a holiday in a city I really love to visit with people who love me. Just staying put, letting life tick on forward. Trying to let myself just enjoy the company in the present moment, the present place.
In the mornings there I woke to the constancy of traffic noise, the busyness of San Francisco. I'd lay in my friend's office with my mind thinking about AH, my Mother and CK. In and out, back and forth. Having been coughing hard for nearly a week I found it even harder to settle my mind by watching the breath because of the painful way my breath moved in my body.
It was a quieter visit than many. I was still coughing badly and conscious of the sorrow I felt. I didn't feel capable of rushing. I mostly rested and relaxed in the mornings. A bit later in the day my friend and I'd go out. One day to SFMOMA and the second afternoon he drove us across the bay to Berkeley. Each day was quieter and more reflective.
It was in the glorious, golden light of evening that streamed across Berkeley that I was just struck at how happy I am - how lucky, how fortunate.
Right there with that simple joy I felt welling up in me was this hard, sharp point of AH's death. My mind returning again and again to her smile, sometimes so sly, and so often gleaming in her eyes with mischievousness. Her hugs, the warmth I felt in each and every one of them. Her curiosity about life which makes her death so hard to process. I nearly felt silly, but I kept thinking how I'll miss her wonderful sweaters & scarves and how seeing her in them often brought a lightness to my heart when it felt heavy.
I commented to SJ as we walked that there is this strangeness in practice where we learn to accept that we feel all of these things at the same time. If we are present to everything there in front of us, it is all in there together. The awful and the glorious.
There is the unspeakable grief that sticks in the space between my heart and throat chakras, stealing my voice, incomprehensibly intertwined with a gratitude & happiness that is too precious for words. All there, all together. I noted that I could just sit down with a thump into that dark sorrow, or rush back pointlessly to Portland, but if I did so I'd be turning my back on the dear friend with me that moment and the incredible beauty surrounding us.
So I was simply happy strolling across Berkeley in the evening light. Choosing that brightness and wrapping it around the jagged edges. There's nothing that makes that sharpness go away, but there is some cushion between the points in allowing myself to be present to the joy that exists simultaneously alongside them. I'm grateful to have so many loving people in my life, so many safe havens where no one minds that I go from tears to laughter within moments.
Good-by, AH, I will miss you.
May we all be at ease.