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Category Archives: deep thoughts
once upon a time…
Once upon a time, I was engaged to marry. As is the custom in my family, I made a quilt. The design reflected the hopes and ambitions that I had for my life. It was all-white, intricate and symmetrical. It was a vintage pattern to remind me of the ways that my life was connected to my heritage. It was filled with circles to symbolize the ring I would wear in marriage:
Over the years, I saved bits and scraps of brightly-colored cotton fabric. Then I let my daughter play around with these (with the help of her Aunt Susan), and she made this, while she was still in grade school:
These two quilts are so heavy with metaphor, that it’s difficult to write about them without sounding trite.* Perhaps it is enough, for now, to say that once upon a time…I made a quilt.
*And I have already written some of these stories, here and here.
on hope & history…
From Rebecca Solnit’s Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities
Causes and effects assume history marches forward. but history is not an army. It is a crab scuttling sideways, a drip of soft water wearing away stone, an earthquake breaking centuries of tension. Sometimes one person inspires a movement, or her words do decades later; sometimes a few passionate people change the world; sometimes they start a mass movement and millions do…All of that these transformations have in common is that they begin in the imagination, in hope. To hope is to gamble. It’s to bet on the future, on your desires, on the possibility that an open heart and uncertainty is better than gloom and safety. To hope is dangerous, and yet it is the opposite of fear, for to live is to risk.
As someone who studies those slow eroding drips of history, I love how Solnit affirms the notion that individuals can create large-scale change. I need to remember this for those days that I feel apathy, and for those moments when I feel small.
of pearls and seaweed
From the journal of Henry Thoreau:
pearls and seaweed
…Thoreau’s Journal: 06-Jul-1840Have no mean hours, but be grateful for every hour, and accept what it brings. The reality will make any sincere record respectable. No day will have been wholly misspent, if one sincere, thoughtful page has been written.
Let the daily tide leave some deposit on these pages, as it leaves sand and shells on the shore. So much increase of terra firma. This may be a calendar of the ebbs and flows of the soul; and on these sheets as a beach, the waves may cast up pearls and seaweed.
A few weeks ago I “archived” my blog, with the intention of not writing in this space again. It seemed a wise move, a motivator for me to be writing in other places, for publication. But then I realized that I need this space, if only to clear the cobwebs from my head every once in awhile, and to record the “ebbs and flows” of my daily life.
life, the universe, and everything
Being the geek that I am, I’ve been anticipating tomorrow for quite some time. It’s not only Towel Day, but it’s my Towel Day–I’ll be turning 42, which means that it is destined to be the perfect birthday.
Except, of course, it is not. I’m not wandering in Italy this year, I’m not hosting an inspiring fundraiser, and I’m not throwing a party for friends. In fact, I haven’t been feeling well at all lately due to this.
But…
At the same time, I’ve never felt more at peace with my life than I do now. I’m not railing against a rigid religion, or feeling friction from a failing relationship, or worrying about what lies ahead.
Instead…
My days are filled with many pleasures: a satisfying job, many books to read, much time on the ocean, a happy home-life, and friends who like to talk long into the summer evenings. If I could sum things up in just a few words, it would be that I am satisfied. Satisfied with who I am and all that’s happening in my life. In fact, that’s the primary reason I haven’t been blogging much anymore–I don’t have angst and worries and unfinished business. I’m recording many of my simple pleasures on instagram, but find little in my everyday life that warrants blog discussion.
I have enough. I am enough…
I suspect that, for me, that’s why 42 is The Answer to “life, the universe, and everything.” So many things just aren’t necessary on our travels when we know where our towel is. The rest just seems to work out one way or another. Or, perhaps we learn that whatever does happen is answer enough.
Easter, redux
I tend to feel very reflective on Easter weekend. Perhaps because it’s spring, or perhaps because every Easter seems to mark a milestone in my life.
The past two Easters I’ve been in the Bay area, and enjoyed that long drive across the state alone–giving me time for reflection (I do love me a roadtrip!). But this year I’ll be with the kids again, which makes me pretty happy. Gameboy is home from college and I never do seem to have enough time with Catgirl. We’ll also be with a group of Friends–sitting in silence and eating wholesome food and enjoying the mountains.
I’ll be bringing along my good camera, to capture a few photos of daffodils as I wandel around in the woods (that’s dutch for “walk”–isn’t that a great word?), and will post photos of this year’s Pysanky eggs as soon as they are revealed.
What I wrote on Easter weekend in 2012:
Last Easter weekend was momentous for me–during my long drive to northern California I did a lot of important thinking, and made some significant decisions about what I wanted from my future. To see the consequences of decisions made that weekend play out in the year since, is a remarkable thing.
Though I no longer celebrate a Christian holiday at this time of year, it remains an important time for renewal for me. A time for daffodils and decision-making and peace.
Image above is of the Pysanky eggs that Catgirl creates each year while at the Quaker Easter retreat. That she spends her Easter holiday among F/friends makes me happy, even if it’s a time that she spends with her father and not with me.
busy-body
Reading Andrea’s post about busy-ness reminded me of a change I made awhile ago. I decided that I wouldn’t reply to people that I was “busy” or “too busy” when they made a request. Because it seemed that I’d fallen into a pattern of using that excuse to get out of doing things that weren’t important to me. Instead, I started replying with a more specific response, either letting them know what was precluding me from attending their party/concert/kaffeeklatsch or explaining that I couldn’t help them because I had another responsibility that was taking priority at the moment.
Doing so gave me the opportunity to affirm my priorities, such as replying that I couldn’t attend an event because I wanted to spend time with my daughter that night, or I couldn’t join in on gathering because it was a morning that I needed to be out on the ocean, getting some exercise. I’d like to think that it made my relationships with my friends and associates more authentic, too. Because I was able to honestly respond to their requests with an affirmative “Yes, I will attend,” or a “No, I have another engagement that will take precedence on my calendar.” I’m not sure if that was how it was received, but it made me feel better than just the canned reply of “oh, I can’t–too busy.”
But, additionally, I have been trying to take more time for friends lately. A chat in front of the fireplace, taking a yoga class together, or even just a brief phone call. I don’t want to ever be “too busy” for friends, and it feels good to make time with them as a higher-priority item on my list of possibilities.
Hey you!
Recently I’ve had several sweet friends contact me to see if I’m okay–they’ve noticed my lack of posts on the blog, on FB, twitter, etc.
I’m fine, and I appreciate the concern very much. It may be that I won’t return to posting with my previous enthusiasm for awhile or maybe never. We’ll see… 🙂
short shameful confession #28
I have an IRL fetish. I have a few of them, actually, but the one that’s on my mind right now is my IRL fetish for paper.
We have boxes full of creamy think white paper leftover from wrapping dishes in our recent move, and I love the texture of it, the color, and its soft wrinkles. This weekend Catgirl and I used the paper to create a skirt pattern for sewing, and it was an utter delight to use a thick artist pencil on that paper, too. So much so that I was dreaming about all kinds of ways I might use paper again (digital schmigital).
That, and I’m also thinking about the book that sits on the edge of my bathtub to entertain me during my evening soaks. Wet fingers on paper (and the wrinkles that those wet fingers leave on book pages after they dry) are a texture that feels so much more bone-deep satisfying than a swipe of a finger across a screen.
Previous short shameful confessions
Note: featured image is of the old-timey letterbox (and nearby elevator) in the lobby of the Hotel Allegro in Chicago. It made me want to mail a few snail-mail letters to friends…
2012 Retrospective #3 (finishing)
The next installment on my 2012 Retrospective series:
Finishing my PhD meant the end of a lifetime school career. With the exception of a few months between the births of my two kids, I was a student my entire adult life. Until June 2012.
I’m still grappling with the loss of the “student” discounts for movies and museums and so many other things…
This resulted in an identity shift that’s much larger than putting aside the laminated student ID card that I carried in my wallet everyday. Not being a student somehow means that I’m a grown-up now, in a way that I wasn’t before. It gives a feeling of no longer being “in progress” but of having reached an endpoint of a journey. There’s something in my soul that has had a hard time accepting that feeling and figuring out what’s next.