your moment(s) of zen.

i know it's monday and not wednesday, and i know i haven't been here for awhile.

i'll let you know where i've been when i can process it for you.

in the meantime i saw this and it was at once hopeful and totally sad.

so here's your monday moment(s) of zen.

and just remember just because it isn't for you or doesn't involve you or doesn't impact you or doesn't agree with you doesn't mean it's "wrong" and it doesn't make it "go away."

only love prevails.

x.

the beginning of the end.

i knew this day would come.

i am sorry to have to break this on a friday afternoon, and it should probably go in the wine blog (which will be back up and running soon!) but here goes.

crap!

x.

indeed.

so i got an email from NORA! re: my blog post about her last week.

this is what she had to say, and i quote

"didn't know you were sober enough then to remember all that"

let's just hope she never writes that book, huh?

x.

your moment(s) of zen.

even as we enter a new and decidedly better era in this country we may never feel this level of unbridled elation again. like the new car smell, a carry over the threshold, the blush of first love, even as things remain lovely and may continue to get better, the celebration of it wanes.

it is this spirit that i want to share the following video with you.

watch it when you have the chance to turn it up and shake a tail feather and let the last eight years AND MORE fall away and get swallowed up by the pure joy of a new beginning.

x.

eight years ago today.

a dark day for america indeed. shit we knew it was going to be bad, but just how bad it got is still astounding to me.

thank got that day was saved in history as something even better!

eight years ago today wingman was born!!!

dear wingman,



happy birthday and thank you for saving the day.

love,
mama

oh, and how great was it to see that helicopter ushering the bush family out of the city, huh?

good luck and god speed, former president bush.

x.

(and yes, that's a picture that i took a picture of. with a reflection of my hand. classy, huh?)

your moment(s) of zen.

years ago, a lifetime maybe, i met a woman who became so special to me that just saying her name aloud makes the air more pleasant to be in. and it's not just me. everyone who meets her loves her.

she's kind and snarky and sweet and hilarious and pretty and can dance better than anyone else and is intelligent and adventurous. she tells the funniest stories about her family and they are so true they are heartbreaking even as you're trying not to pee your pants.

she is the best.

but, let me start at the beginning. we were on the border studying and working in a midwifery clinic. delivering babies, drinking our body weight in alcohol, and flirting with absolute disaster just about every minute we possibly could.

midwifery boot camp we called it because of the intensity of the work, the clients, just being there. it was like an oliver stone movie only instead of booze, boys, and blowing things up it was pregnant bellies, blood, and babies. well, and then the booze and the boys. but that's another story.

so anyhow, the first time i met her was when she came over to see the apartment i advertised to share. i had gotten to the city earlier than nearly everyone else i'd be working with and had secured an apartment. i had written a very detailed, witty, clever (i thought) ad and put it up in the clinic. anyone who read it and called would have already known what i was and was not looking for. i thought this would cut out the non-potentials and make the whole thing easier.

so i answer the door and let her in. she's looking around and i say

"so i guess you read my ad?"

"naw. i started too, but it was waaayy too long, too many words, too much detail. i just called the number at the bottom"

whatevs.

so i'm showing her the place and i had just made some noodles and i asked her if she was hungry.

she said she was so i got her a bowl and we settled on the bare wooden floors in an almost empty living room with 15 foot ceilings and big big windows.

while it wasn't the taj mahal, and i'm sure the building was falling down, and the landlords were crazy (as in seriously crazy), and the carpet in my bedroom was 50 years old if it was a day, and the neighborhood was suspect, and the dust, oh the dust of the desert was EVERYWHERE the apartment was DIRT CHEAP as in not even 500 a month for a huge two bedroom and the wood floors and the high ceilings, oh i loved that place.

anyhow, so we're settled in and eating and she's telling a story about when she first came back from nepal. and i notice that it's as if she waits *until* she's going to talk to take a bite of food.

then i notice that when she's not talking with food in her mouth she's eating with her mouth open. like fully and like it's the most natural thing in the world.

and then, then, then she lifted one side of her bottom up off of the floor and farted! on a bare wooden floor in an empty echoey room!

well right then and there i thought, good lord not only am i NOT going to live with this woman, even though we'd be studying and working together i doubt we would even EVER hang out together.

can i just say, i don't like bodily functions made public. funny, i can handle birth and all its messiness like nobody's business. i've stuck my hands into some nether regions of the body like it's nothing and not thought twice. i've wiped so many things off my shoe, my pants, my person in the process of birth and not batted an eye. i've encountered bodily fluids that have the color and smell and texture ONLY a human body could produce and push out. but give me a simple natural bodily function in public and i'm a goner. i'm offended and embarrased and just don't know how to handle myself.

basically because i am a snobby bitch like that.

so, i didn't offer her the apartment. and she didn't ask for it.

and less than a week later we were as thick as thieves and she was branded onto my heart forever. i couldn't remember my life without her in it. oh, i'm sure i lived a life before, but i couldn't for the life of me at the time think of how i could have managed to pull it off without her.

in some ways i was equally my very best self and my very worst self during that time and she was always right there. she was a truly loyal and supportive friend, yet completely and totally honest. one of the very best qualities to have in a friend. even when you have to hear what you'd rather not. and during that time i think i heard a lot more than i wanted. and i was and am a better person for it.

and she was fun with a capital F.

and while we haven't shared the same zip code ever again, in all these years with weddings and babies and life changes, and with time and distance and a few oceans between us i still hold her as near and dear to my heart as i did when i first met her.

well, not the first day i met her. ;)

but, you get the picture.

anyhow, it is in the spirit of the incomparable and fabulous NORA! (and her sweet husband vishnu) that i bring you the following video.

now, in full disclosure, it is about birth. in india. and there is birth in it. and it's 30 minutes long. and it's in 3 sections. so when you get to the end of one section, just go to the bottom where it says videos 1/2/3 and click to the next section.

nora, if you are reading this you are a blessing and a dear. and you are totally unhinged in the very best kind of way. and i love you.

x.

row, row, row your boat.

(the above picture is for the obvious boat theme AND because we watched anthony bourdain in venice last night and if ever i fell in love with a place, the "real" place, not the touristy guidebooky romantic notion of the place, so hard i could feel it in my soul i can't remember it)

so you know the story about the guy who was warned by god that a flood was coming?

so the flood comes and all the town is evacuated. but the man stays put. the policemen come by his house in a row boat to evacuate him and he says no, no, god will save me. he warned me and he will save me.

so the water keeps coming and the man is forced to the second story of his house and some people come by in a power boat to evacuate him. no, no, god will save me. he warned me and he will save me.

so the water keeps coming and the man is forced onto the roof of his home and a helicopter comes and hovers over with a voice over a loudspeaker that says grab the rope! and the man says no, no, god will save me. he warned me and he will save me.

so the man drowns.

and when he gets to heaven he meets up with god and he says, why didn't you save me!?! you warned me and why didn't you save me!?!

and god says, not only did i warn you, but i sent you a two boats and a helicopter! what the hell more did you need!?!

ah.

okay, so maybe in the original story god doesn't say "hell."what can i say, it seemed fitting in the re-write. but can you imagine being god and this schmuck dies because he's a schmuck and he still makes it to heaven and then gets all up in your grill!

sometimes when need saving or just searching for an answer we forget to search if the answer is right in front of us. even if we've been warned. sometimes especially when we've been warned ahead of time.

maybe we're too busy hoping it will all work out or even knowing that it will all work out to look at how we need to jump in the row boat or grab the rope as part of the solution to it all working out.

when you're in a situation long enough and hoping for a miracle is what you've got left, which is perfectly acceptable, it's easy to lose sight of the simple ways to assist in the miracle.

when you rely on the universe providing, which is perfectly acceptable, you have to remember to look around for the rope. the universe providing is not without its leg work.

that being said, and on to an all together different matter, today is the day my child starts algebra.

algebra.

a small word, but one that is powerful enough to strike fear in the hearts of the fearless. even into the hearts of those who have taken and passed algebra.

and we all know that wasn't me. third grade math is where my brain and the lack of proper teaching and any help at all ground my math career to a halt. okay, i kid, i kid, i'll say fifth grade.

the point is, i am scared shitless. i knew this was coming and there isn't a rowboat or a rope in sight. just me.

BUT

i've made it this far and if test scores are any indication (please let them be any indication) i really can and do do a fine job teaching my child math i have not previously learned myself.

SO

here we go. wish me well and if you can hear the screaming from where you are i suggest you just close your windows.

x.

monday. but in a good way.

what a pretty image, huh?

GOD I AM SO GLAD THE SNOW IS GONE!!!!

really. it's pretty. the boybarians like to sled. the world is white and beautiful.

and i'm over it. and i'm glad it's over.

moving right along.

i was going to go all braggy on you and post the scores i got back from a test the boybarians took at the beginning of the school year. they were excellent!

alas, i can't figure out how to copy and post them.

good thing they didn't give ME the test. har har.

anyhow, they both scored between 98 and 99% for their age groups and levels in things like reading, comprehension, mathematics, deduction, reasoning, blah blah blah.

i am very proud!!! and moreover i have hard proof that i may actually be doing my job. or, hard proof that they are just smart enough to compensate for and overcome the odds presented to them by having me as their teacher.

in matters of love and raising children don't ever rule ANYTHING out.

moving right along.

i just had to say the following in a louder than usual voice

"it CAN'T be impossible! it's second grade math!!"

if truer words were ever spoken i don't know what they are. it's third grade math when impossible started for me! ha ha. no, really, it's true. sigh.

moving right along.

it turns out that having the flu for two weeks wasn't enough and i've got something again. fever, hacking, body aches, the works. i am feeling better, but i think that's all relative at this point.

good times.

BUT

it's a new year!! and it's monday!! a new week and therefore a fresh start!! and that's a very good thing indeed!

no, really! it's true! so i wish you a happy monday and a great start to all that's going to go right this week.

x.

your moment(s) of zen.

i'm not a big "art" person.

meaning, i like art, sure. there are some things that really call to me, sure. i have a museum membership, i put stuff up on my walls. you know, the usual.

but i'm not huge on getting all crazy about certain pieces of art, or artists, or "art stars."

there are times i see famous pieces that everybody's crazy for and i'm like "i don't get it."

i don't say it out loud, of course, i just don't get it. quietly. on the inside.

it's two blotches and a smear. or one solid black box. or, well, you get the picture. or, if you're like me, you DON'T. ha ha ha.

i understand about interpretation and all that, but there's a LOT i don't get it.

now, i feel the same about groups of people. i'm not a big group person. not a joiner.

and what's even worse, what sends my blood running cold is a group of people all creating something together. like a big group sing along. like a big group dance. like art. a big group of people doing some big art project together. the thought makes me crazy.

i know it's because i'm a control freak. i know it's because i have some smidgen of adult onset ADHD (hypo, not hyper). i know it's because, well it's because i'd rather stand in the corner and make snide remarks than join in. because i'm not a joiner, because i'm shy, because i'm not that interested, and so that's how i mask all that. the snideness.

plus, being snide is fun. as long as you keep it to yourself. or, you know, blog about it.

and i'm fine with that. i own that part of myself.

but, that being said, i know, and am related to, and am dear friends with PLENTY of people who could be labeled as an "artist." and i can honestly say that there are lots of things each of them do that i apreciate, understand, and even really really really like! in fact, above this very desk i am planted at are no less than 5 fabulous pieces from a friend i like to call THATgirl! she's a fabulous artist and is all up into the art world AND even teaches art. or something related to art. i always forget.

and the pieces are great! and they make me happy to look at them! and i am so happy and honored she would give them to me. PLUS wingman is showing a great deal of interest and talent in the artistic pursuits. and that makes me as pleased as punch.

so, i'm not a total curmudgeon. yet.

which brings me to my sort of point. creating.

creating is an interesting concept. i love the idea of having an idea, or no idea at all!, and creating something from that. or from nothing. it could be the mother in me the writer in me the cook in me, but i really really understand creating.

and to create, you need only the will to do so. anybody can create. it doesn't take special skills or materials or know how. sure, if you are creating something specific it does, but in general you don't need anything but your two hands and the want to do it.

i know art is like that. i know. i know art is creating and creating is art. but to me, the act of creating is way more accessible. and i know that comes from not thinking my art would be good enough, having control issues, and not really "getting" a lot of art other than just liking it.

basically i am just admitting i'm a plebe when it comes to art, justifying something that needs no justification, and substituting "creating" for "art."

but, that's how i like to roll.

so, in that spirit i bring you the following video.

watch it when you have 7 minutes to really feel good about the world we live in and the people who live in it.

because if everyone were like me, there wouldn't be people like who you are going to see.

and that would be a sad, sad thing indeed.

x.

excuses. excuses.

so i came across this interview with mark bittman. (chef, author, big time foodie)

isn't that great!

i have always wanted a true chef's kitchen. yet i have always maintained that anyone truly interested in food or cooking or eating can create a feast in a closet if need be.

and some people just have to.

and i have. actually i've created some pretty great food in some pretty not so great circumstances.

my current kitchen isn't bad. nor is it fabulous. but night after night i prepare healthy delicious meals for my family. season after season i create gourmet meals, birthday parties, and holiday dinners in that kitchen.

i don't just throw up my hands and say well, when i get a nicer kitchen then i'll cook! chiefly because i have a family to feed and that kind of attitude won't do. but also because i love to cook. i love food. and fancy kitchen or no, i need to create in the kitchen i have.

i want the perfect kitchen and one day i will have the perfect kitchen, but in the meantime the kitchen i have is the one i have and it works and thus i make the kitchen i have work.

and hey, if mark bittman can be who he is in the kitchen he has then i don't have a leg of lamb with a rosemary and fleur de sel crust to stand on.

so.

let's take that and apply it liberally to the other areas of life, shall we?

this morning dawned bleak and cold and icy. just like every other morning before it has for weeks.

only what's special about this morning is this is the first morning in a month that i am actually well and able enough to go to yoga. i was looking forward to it...last night.

but this morning came and it was cold and i was bone tired and my favorite kitty was snuggled and purring beside me and i knew it was icy on the roads and the lord of the ring was sick and asleep (finally!) on the couch and i didn't want to wake him by going downstairs and if i got up wingman would get up and he needs more sleep to combat his (finally) dwindling cold and if he got up and i had to leave and the lord of the ring was asleep then he'd be alone downstairs and the house was cold and on and on and on.

enough to stay in bed snuggling with the kitty and eventually wingman who stumbled in, keeping warm and letting the lord of the ring continue to sleep in a quiet house.

so. i. did.

sure those excuses were valid. to us, excuses always are "valid." that's why they are so popular.

but, what does that do for this body that needs daily exercise for mental and physical health? how many excuses can this body accept?

so i stayed in bed until it was time to get up.

BUT while it's not ideal or fun to not have the space or facilities and to have an audience, as soon as i had water and a snack i did a shortened yoga workout in front of the t.v.

on the carpet with the cats dashing at me and trying to drink my water and the boybarians pulled up front and center offering critiques.

and it wasn't the best workout and it was shorter than normal and certainly not as fulfilling as warming up, working out, then doing constructive rest like in my class, BUT i did it.

i worked out and made it work.

if we wait for conditions to be right/perfect/ideal to take charge of our lives/have fun/do what needs doing then we're all just going to be stuck. and in my case stuck with higher blood pressure and an even wider ass.

i need to exercise to stay healthy. i want to exercise to feel good. making excuses not to is just dumb. even if they're "valid." because there's always another choice, an alternative. we just have to be committed to finding it. as committed as we are to finding excuses not to.

what do you need to do? and what is the "valid excuse" holding you back from doing it?

i know i already went, but in the spirit of commuinty here, i'll go first! again!

i DESPERATELY NEED to paint my dining room and kitchen ceilings!!! good lord i need to. it's really not even a want anymore. i simply cannot make it "work" for me anymore.

and yet...here we go...but they have contact paper on them (i know. don't ask. i certainly didn't ask the big of WTF?!?when we bought the place and have proceeded to ignore the whole situation for a decade) and they are so high and i shouldn't paint them until we get new light fixtures (desperately needed as well) for them. and there's more but i'm forgetting what.

BUT

i already have the paint and the ladder and i can carve out the time. and we haven't gotten new lighting fixtures for a decade so how is that even an issue anymore? there really is a statute of limitations on excuses. believe it. plus, i can just paint around the new installations when that happens.

so what am i waiting for? more excuses? why am i not waiting for the opportunity to pretty up my living space because the situation is desperate at this point? why i am not waiting for the opportunity to bask in a job (hopefully) well done, and more importantly finished?

indeed.

the point is when we need to, or want to, nothing we do to better ourselves our ceilings or our asses is ever a waste. right?

even if it's not the full body workout or the perfect down to every last detail decorating circumstance or a gourmet kitchen to die for, we can and SHOULD still do it.

a girl's gotta eat. and work off the eating. and do it all under charming and calming azure skies. or at least a really cute ceiling that doesn't look like it belongs in someone's flooded basement.

that's what i need. what do you need? and what are you going to do about it?

whatever it is and however it happens, just remember, even if it's a drop in the bucket, over time it all adds up and eventually you are bounty overflowing.

x.

january 5, 2009

it's 2009 and time to get started!

i don't make new year's resolutions.

rather i just try to take this time to RE-remember that every day is a new day. one more chance to start again.

i would like to add to that that i really feel this year is the year for dreaming big. thinking big. going big. accepting big.

no exceptions.

so to that end i encourage you all to pull out all the stops. what is your dream? how would you go big if you knew you could not fail?

whatever your dream is...and i seriously mean whatever. there is no dream too big or small, too right or wrong, too silly or too unimportant. i know you know that, but i also know how easy that simple thing is to forget.

whatever it is, write it on a slip of paper, in your journal, tell a friend, whisper it to your cat, scream it to the universe.

and however you do it, just get it out to the universe and then get to work banishing the what ifs? and the no ways! and the lack ofs and the it'll never works.

throw all of what you know about what you think you will get/do deserve from life and throw out your arms and let the universe know you're ready.

just remember to appreciate the little things along the way.

x.

your moment(s) of zen.

i know this person.

okay, i can't say any more than "i know this person" because then it would violate their privacy and possibly embarrass them (although i think it's an awesome story) and i only do that to my children here at sillymortalmama. not actual live people who could kick my ass or just call me up, and you know, be really really mad at me.

so, i know this person. and one day we were talking and this person told me how much they wished they had their own custom choreographed dance to michael jackson's billie jean. then every time billie jean came on they could bust out with the smooth moves.

now THAT'S awesome! to have your own song with your own moves and every time it came on you just stopped and then busted out with the awesomeness? how cool is that! and billie jean is an AWESOME song.

the only problem would be that i would like to know exactly where one might get even a whiff of billie jean being played on any sort of regular basis. or, at all. because you'd have to hear the song to dance to the song. and i don't hear a lot of billie jean on the radio or you know, at all.

for it to really work you might have to resort to carrying a portable cd player with you. with big enough speakers so everyone around you could hear. then, then you'd probably have to carry like a piece of cardboard or linoleum or something like that to put down do that you could properly bust your move.

now THAT would be awesome. too bad no one ever thought of that.

but, i digress.

anyway, i thought how rad this would be. and considered a few songs for myself. what would i choose to be my signature choreographed just for me song?

but, then i gave up the wondering when i gave up dancing in public for good.

yes, the former dancing on the speakers at the clubs girl has given up public dancing. i know, sad but true.

BUT i'll tell you what's really sad. the day i found myself throwing my arms up and saying "whoo" a few too many times COUPLED WITH what i am sure is just a slight variation on the white man's overbite. now THAT'S sad, and THAT'S when i knew it was all over.

it was not pretty.

and so it shall never exist again.

BUT just because i don't dance in public doesn't mean i don't appreciate people who want to get their groove on. people who let the music take them and their body to boogie wonderland. just because i'm a narcissistic killjoy doesn't mean i don't appreciate those who aren't.

and so it is with that spirit in mind that i wish each of you much dancing in whatever form you feel comfortable with and present to you the following video. which you might be tempted to dismiss right off the bat, but please don't. it's so worth it.

(click on the link and when you get to the page click on the video arrow)

x.

the duke.

the duke has a pair of converse and has needed better shoes for awhile. they really aren't winter shoes at all, and the holes starting in the sides didn't help.

anyhow, yesterday he went with the lord of the ring to big5 sporting goods because i saw they had a reasonable pair of winter boots on sale for 20 bucks. and i didn't tell him this, but 20 bucks was the best we could do right now so i was happy to find that sale.

they ended up coming home with a different pair and the duke was going on and on about how they were only 15 bucks! and weren't they cool and how warm his feet were and how comfortable they were and didn't they make him look taller.

and the thing that struck me is here's this kid, this "tween," and how the media portrays them and panders to them and how as parents we're supposed to just throw up our hands and say whattaya gonna do and give in to it. that it's developmentally appropriate for them to become voracious consumers and to go after the new the shiny the pretty and our job is to just supply the checkbook.

and here's the duke, wearing this pair of boots that aren't "cool" by any stretch of the imagination and aren't a brand anybody's even heard of and he's proud that he found them at the store and that they were even less than i thought they'd be.

and i was just so proud of him for not being that kid. the kid that has to have the big ticket item. he's the kid who is just happy with having the boots because now playing outside is going to be much more enjoyable AND "we won't have to buy me another pair of hiking boots for the spring."

i have a friend in a similar financial situation that we now find ourselves in. and regardless of finances she has ALWAYS shopped second hand. her kids have always looked adorable and have never minded. recently she was given a pair of nearly new $80 basket ball shoes in her 10 year old son's size. she thought he'd be thrilled because they were a popular brand, but he wasn't. he was disappointed and asking is there a way to get a new pair. he's getting into the thing of new and popular and brands. she is less than thrilled with this new development.

as parents we really do try and do our best. and sometimes it's really really hard. sometimes there's not enough time or energy or money or whatever and so our best can and does fall short of some perceived mark sometimes.

that in and of itself is hard enough WITHOUT the added pressure of a child's disappointment that our "best" doesn't even come close to their "acceptable."

i'm just glad that right now when everything is just a little harder than usual that i'm not dealing with disappointment on top of everything else.

i'm just glad that the duke can be and is happy with what he has, what we are able to provide for him.

because that's it right there. being happy with what you have, what you can afford to have.

because we are all blessed beyond belief, it's just remembering to remember that that we lose sight of.

happy tuesday.

x.

guadalupe.

today is the feast day celebrating the virgin of guadalupe.

she is the patron saint of the americas, and she embodies and encourages peace and unity for all men and women through the spirit of brotherhood and justice.

but i love her because she is love.

she has brought me many an hour of peace when most needed. mostly in the form of lighting her candle and sending up all the crap. and while i'm not prone to established prayers or scripture or anything like that, i do like the prayer on the back of the candle.

Dear Virgin of Guadalupe, Mother and help of all Christians since you appeared to Juan Diego in the mountains of Mexico, the problems that torment me I place in your blessed hands. Remember Oh Blessed Mother that never has it been known that anyone who sought your help was left unaided, with confidence, humble and repentant, full of Love and Hope, this favor I implore.

so tonight we will have a meal in honor of the virgin de guadalupe. i will light my candles and count my blessings.

but before all of that i will get to hang my brand spankin' new virgin de guadalupe automobile air freshener (in the "spring bouquet" scent) from the rearview mirror! su-weeeet.

be blessed.

x.

your moment(s) of zen.

a lot of people don't know this about me but i am wacky for christmas music.

i love christmas carols like nobody's business. i distinctly remember being 11 or 12 and thinking silver bells was about the best song ever written. i thought it was classy.

and when i would sing the babyboybarians to sleep, if a few rounds of amazing grace didn't work (which it never did with the duke. only an hour and a half of walking and bouncing to bittersweet symphony by the verve would work. and mostly not even then) i would launch into christmas carols.

anyhow, the day after thanksgiving the cheesy radio station around these parts goes all christmas all the time. whoo hoo! and then i'm a goner.

now, i'm not sure why it is, but ave maria has become a "christmas song." maybe it's the whole jesus' (fake) birthday season and all that, who knows.

anyhow, there are a million different renditions and most of them suck, well, not suck. it's a beautiful song, after all. but if you're playing all christmas all the time you gather what you can for variety. even the "poorer" choices.

did you know that ave maria comes from an epic poem? sir walter scott's lady of the lake. i didn't know that, i assumed it came from the hail mary prayer. which some versions do.

there are several versionsof the song, of course, and each one takes liberties with the wording depending on the language, singer, etc. but the original is taken from the poem and the music is schubert.

a few days ago, maybe last week i was driving home from yoga. it was pouring outside and i was pouring inside. absorbed in my thoughts, mostly stressful and what-ifs and not of the positive nature. all of a sudden ave maria came on the radio. a particularly beautiful ave maria. i kinda recognized the voice, i thought.

but there was something in the quality of the music, the depth of the lyrics. i was mesmerized. i was so mesmerized in fact that i had to pull the car over and stop a minute. it was beautiful. and as i listened i was overcome with a sense of peace, a sense of being okay in the world. in this world. in my world.

it wasn't until the song was finished that i realized that i had been crying. there were tears running down my face. but they were tears of comfort, tears of joy.

shit man, music just totally rocks! doesn't it? i mean my god if you could bottle that and sell it it would be illegal! or, i guess, you could just get an ipod. or, uh, play a cd, or turn on the radio.

anyhow, i wondered about the singer and after a bit of research i found the exact version online and i am somewhat amused to report it was celine dion. i know, i know. who knew?

i did a little further research on ave maria and was really fascinated by its origin and the different versions and all the opinions, etc.

so, i would like to present to you a particularly beautiful version of the song. and no! it's not celine dion, though i encourage you to listen to that one because it was beautiful, too.

and if you ever see me type that last sentence again then you'll know i've finally gunned the t-bird over the cliff.

but this ave maria is just gorgeous and it's all in german. there's a video montage accompanying it that could be construed as cheesy and silly, especially so coming from me. but, the music and particularly the singer's voice is not. and all together it's quite beautiful and quite moving.

there are a thousand ways to kiss the ground, rumi said.

and i think, in the grand scheme of things, watching a video of pictures of children in prayer or pulling the car over to cry in the rain while celine dion sings both. fit. right. in.

ave maria.

x.

and joy.

in the past few days i have had the pleasure of opening e-mail only to find pictures of babies whom i love and never get to see.

my goddess son's 4th birthday (wearing what inexplicably has got to be a vintage run dmc shirt?) along with his nearly two year old sister who is a pistol and a half. i don't know where i this comes from, but i have the distinct vision that she is the kind of child you'd WANT to take on a foreign vacation to a strange land.

and a photo montage of a month in the life of a delightful little girl baby way over in india whom i probably will never see as a delightful little girl baby but rather will (if i am incredibly lucky) encounter as a sassy preschooler type.

they are precious and adorable and sorely missed by me.

there is something special about your nearest and dearest having babies after your babies have long been non-babies.

i imagine it's a lot like being a grandparent. the want to fawn and spoil and offer WAY too much crappy advice.

every child is a blessing.

every. single. one.

and it brings me joy to know that those babies are out there being raised by awesome women and their awesome partners. it brings hope and joy to an otherwise can be looked at as dismal world. but with babies in the world nothing can be that dismal.

anyhow, i would love to share these babies with you but instead you get the picture above.

now, i don't really know what's going on in this picture. i can surmise, but we are talking about the boybarians here, so i've learned that anything is possible. best just let the picture speak for itself.

i can say this is what happens when you let them use the camera "for five minutes, with the strap around your wrist only, and not a minute longer!", YOUR camera, that you NEVER let them use because the last one turned into THEIR camera and then got lost.

which is a shame because they had a ton of fun with that camera but there is no way your little pink camera is going the way of the other one so five minutes and that's it!

but, five minutes was obviously plenty to mess around with as you can see from the picture above.

which, if you look pretty closely, brings its own measure of joy.

x.

tidings of comfort.

these are the blankets we made to give to homeless teenagers.

i maintain that if your resources are slim and you feel like despairing over your circumstances the last thing you should do is contract. the last thing you should do is be stingy with what little resources you do have.

rather you should throw open your heart and your resources and share what you do have with those who have even less.

this was a nice project for us. and i hope these blankets bring a measure of comfort and warmth to whoever needs it.

give! give! give!

x.

your moment(s) of zen.

once when i was in seventh or eighth grade a boy, who was a family friend and a year older than me and already on his way to being a drug addled mess, looked at me across the table and said matter of factly

"you know, if you shaved your head and dyed what was left orange you would look just like annie lennox. that would be cool."

and then i don't think he said another word to me for about the next 25 years or so until he showed up at a party at the bag lady in paris' house with a pock marked face and smelling like cat pee and all tweaky.

and then proceeded to get into his head this idea that i came "this close" to making out with him and that i was in love with him and would probably leave my husband and family for him if he just gave me the signal.

to this day i have it out in the friends and family circle that should he show up or call up or e-mail up or facebook up looking for my phone number, address, or e-mail, that they were to say they no longer have a relationship with me and therefore do not have any of that information.

anyhow, i digress.

i have always loved the eurythmics. especially so, annie lennox. and at the time i remembered being so impressed with myself that this boy, who was actually a certified genius and somewhat cool (at the time), thought that i in any way resembled or reminded him of annie lennox.

this was a watermark moment in my young life. a moment that suggested for the briefest of seconds that i, possibly the dorkiest person i had ever known, had something cool enough in me to inspire the blossoming community tweaker to pay me such a high compliment.

and may i interject right here that i am so glad i didn't take that too much to heart, and then as a result had to use it as the pinpoint gateway moment in a life of bad choices with worse men trying to recreate that one lunch table moment.

it's only by the grace of god that i am lucky enought to be far too anal and uptight and controlling for all that.

plus, i cannot STAND the smell of cat pee. it makes me angry. it would have never worked.

anyway, i digress.

annie lennox recently gave a performance and i implore you all to watch it.

if only to affirm that in this day and age of performers and bands who would be/are nothing without the aid of a computer and the ever lowering expectations of an american public, if only to affirm that there is and always has been true artistry in music. that the voice is still an authentic instrument and that there have been and continue to be people who know how to use it.

plus, also, because she kicks ass.

i give to you, annie lennox.

and ladies and gentlemen, if that's 53, then sign me up!

x.

forbearance.

on friday i went on a hike with the duke.

and as i hiked in second growth forest and then crossed into old growth forest i was thinking about life such as it is. what is going right, what could be a hell of a lot smoother.

did you know that an old growth forest is warmer than the second growth? bigger trees, denser canopy, more all around to trap in the warm air and keep out the cold. and then there is the magic of an old growth forest. a cosmic HA! to the blades and machine of history and consumption and progress.

soon instead of old and tired worries tossing about in my head i was only consumed the smell of the forest and the feeling of damp earth under my feet. the familiar and joyful feeling of my own two legs strong enough to propel me up the steep hill side and navigate mucky switchbacks, and it all reminded me that wherever i am, here i am.

that i've been "here" before. at any number of stages in my life there has been a forest, with steep hillsides and mucky switchbacks. and i've always made it up and i've always made it out.

and i was reminded once again that everything really is just a matter of attitude and time.

the tao teaches that forbearance is the idea that neither bad fortune or good fortune will alter who we are. that by remaining true to our inner selves and bearing all kinds of fortune with patience, that we will see the way.

Forbearance


Arctic breath coils the mountain,


Rattling the forests' bones.


Raindrops cling to branches:


Jewelled adornment flung to earth.

(from 365 Tao by Deng Ming-Dao; pictures from local old growth forest)

x.

perspective.

it's late friday and i could list a metric ass load of reasons why i am grumpy and headachy and bitchy and not in the mood to be kind.

just as i'm sure any of us could in this world that finds any number of us losing our jobs, our security, our minds.

i am sure there are those of you with children who see christmas coming and feel the pinch already. or those of you with mortgages who send in each monthly payment with a silent thanks to the universe for making it one more month.

or those of you in relationships that frankly SUCK, wondering how it happened, why you stay, what can you do, is it even worth it?

those with health insurance that's busting the budget, those with no insurance who worry every day.

those of you eating hot dogs/scrambled eggs/cereal for dinner more nights than you'd care to until the next pay check when you'd clearly rather be feeding yourself, your family, your children something better.

each of us has a reason we could find ourselves on this friday listing a metric ass load of reasons why we are grumpy or headachey or bitchy or not in the mood to be kind.

BUT

just because we all need it from time to time, and perhaps as a push to something beyond your own pain, i urge you to read the following.

perspective.

sometimes it's easy to forget we aren't the only ones in the world who suffer.

so on this late friday put all of that into perspective.

remember that you are not alone. in the world, in your suffering. you are not alone. and, more importantly, regardless of what you have or do not have or want or will never have, remember that every little bit counts. always.

in what we have, and in what we give. every little bit is really a lot. when you have perspective. when you allow yourself to believe it.

especially so when we feel we have little to nothing left to give. especially so when our reserves have left us bare and we couldn't think of lifting our mouth in a smile or our hand in a help up.

when it comes to what we have to give to others, whether it's kindness, love, faith, or donating our time our effort our money, every single little bit counts.

you have more than you know.

give freely and reap the rewards.

just remember to go easy on yourself.

(oh, and do go easy on the people around you, too. remember, we're all in this together)

x.