befuddled muddled huddled and perhaps need to be cuddled

I don’t know what to write anymore. Excuse me but I’m confused. I work in cubicle hell but the people are great. I have words in my body which may perhaps form an ugly and gnarly book (I’m thinking of calling it Don’t Touch Me). The beauty in the ugly and ugly in what I love is making me speechless. All I know is I know nothing. And when I walk to my cubicle, I take long strides and pretend I’m still backpacking, marching with determination. Because it’s still a pilgrimage of some sort. I’m sure of it. I think.

and on we go…

I can’t believe the summer’s almost over. We’ve been staying up until midnight watching videos in bed, waking up late, sharing huge plates of food, building fleece blanket forts (ok, I just clean up afterwards), and leaving the house with mismatched clothes and beehived knotted hairdos (or rather, non-hairdos (ok, i just cover mine up with a hat)) – typical unstructured, unscheduled summer life. Now it’s time to emotionally prepare myself for the fall. It’s not just about going back to school, it’s more than that – so many changes ahead and many big changes for my parents as well. Sometimes I think it’s harder for me to look at my parents go through life changes than to navigate through my own ebbs and flows. I suppose it’s the same feeling I have when I see my girls go through tough times. There is only so much I can do, and that’s a hard lesson but a good one. Reminds me of Kahlil Gibran’s thoughts on children…

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

Oh. Another thing the kids have been doing is making up their own fashionable designs. Although they have not been showered with textiles and other designer goodies, they’ve come up with some quite silly and fabulous results. I get a good chuckle out of the fact that they make forts and dresses with the same fleece blankets. If I were to create a TV program out of this, I’d call it: Survivor Fashion Designer Junior.

I’ve included some photos of these fab designs. The first dresses are skirts and hairbands (my poor son – although… he sure seemed to enjoy both the dressing up and the dance party afterwards), and the second elaborate dress is made from fleece and hula hoops. Chuckle, chuckle. This is why I shouldn’t worry so much – look at the innovation. My kids will make a great life for themselves out of whatever I can give them.

very intense concentration required

ok. this is funny. part genius, part deranged idea.

visceral emotions

Not much going on these days. I think I needed a break from writing after finishing my last paper – just to be with the kids and go to sleep before 1am (wow. that’s all i can say about sleeping 7 hours/night. wow.).

I read a beautiful post the other day from Wylie Kat (note: still need to learn to do the links when I get bored of sleeping 7 hours/night) about camping and seeing the night sky. It brought me back to those weekends when we used to stay in our rustic little home in Mineral de Pozos, Guanajuato. Pozos used to be a wealthy mining town decades ago until the flooding of the mines and the fighting of the revolution drove out most of its inhabitants. Nowadays, this small desert town is beginning to draw an artist community as San Miguel de Allende becomes more and more commercialized. It was still pretty wild when we were there a few years back. Sometimes we’d wake up and open the front door (we always opened the front door during the day because, well, our yard was the desert!!) to be greeted by a stray horse or goat munching away at a tiny spot of dry grass in our “yard”. During the rainy season there, the endless desert fields of dry corn patches, ruinas and cacti transform from a dusty pale yellow to a vibrant green, speckled with wildflowers and fragrant herbs. Talk about seasons and drastic changes, from daily dust storms to lush and pungent greenery…. everything begins to smell so good, one almost expects to see thin scent clouds wafting about the desert. But regardless of season, the night sky there is always breathtaking. There is something about seeing all those constellations and shooting stars, it’s like Wylie Kat says – you almost want to whisper. I wonder why that is – why does such beauty make us whisper… in respect, in awe, in wonder? Maybe it’s a reminder that there is so much more to this life than we usually see or fathom. I feel small and I’m amazed. The universe (or the little that I’ve seen from a little cabin in Pozos) is gorgeous. And, somehow, remembering that sky makes me think of a baby’s fingerprint. Isn’t that a weird connection to make? Or is it? A stirring of the spirit perhaps.

This isn’t my video but I found it on Youtube and enjoyed seeing those ruinas again:

groove: busy but funky

I’m having one of those hectic weeks. Well, when is it not hectic to be a mom of three young kids, job hunting and trying to study late at night/early in the morning? Things are good though – not rich good or fun good or even peaceful good, but deep and rooted good. After so many years in the dark, wallowing in murk, and then crawling up that slippery slope, I’m starting to feel myself coast a little – it’s like that fun part of the roller coaster when you’ve gone up that huge hill and plunged down the drop, and now you get to enjoy the little dips and turns for a while.

Here’s a song I love… and it’s kind of a good anthem for this busy week. Busy but feeling funky… I think I’m a little too Asian to actually walk around groovin’ like this, but hey, it’s what my soul’s doing in Soul Land (that parallel world where our souls are free in flight).

“groove holmes” by beastie boys

when brain activity begins to resemble thousands of pingpong balls bouncing around a hollow bowl

Boy do I have a lot on my mind lately. Me thinks me’s a little delirious. Sample:

“Ok, what is my thesis for this paper? I don’t know, I just want to go to sleep. No no, must finish the intro to post online tomorrow. Identity… hm something to do with social inequality shaping our perceptions of others… I dunno, dunno… Shoot, I wonder if what’s going to happen with my job hunt. I wonder if Chucho can start painting again and put himself out there to sell his art. Buyers have always come to him accidentally.. or is it accidentally? Karmically? Serendipitiously? Something along those lines. Art and dreams… where do they fit in our lives? Why are we such flight-y dreamers trying to anchor ourselves down? Where are we going to move next year? Should I put the girls in the mandarin program? Maybe Granville Island is better to be close to dance classes? I do love that area. But Chucho likes it where we are. Ok, I do save money by walking everywhere and having everything so close by. Not sure about the Main school though. If I move out of the city centre, I may need a car. Darn what should I focus on with the thesis. Why are final assignments so hard… no mental energy left. I just want to read a book and eat dark chocolate. Hm… God, I’d really like a good job. Help! I wish I could study Lit. for years and years. Now, now, no regrets. I’m sure God has something else great in store for little pea-brained me. I cannot imagine. Then again, this is already great, right now. Life is what happens while we’re making other plans. Right, almost forgot that little tidbit of advice once again! Does the clock really say 1:22am?? Ok, maybe I can go to sleep now and squeeze in my intro when the baby naps tomorrow. Yah, I’ll just lie down and think about my thesis.”

daily mercies

I don’t know why but I was thinking the last couple of days about that feeling when I’m leaving one place for another. I’ve moved a few times from Canada to different places in Mexico so I guess the feeling is familiar to me. I also remember that feeling vividly when I was traveling through Mexico and hitchhiking through different cities randomly. That last drive when I’m looking out the window of the car – everything seems to take on this glow and all the ugly becomes beautiful because I am already traveling through a memory. It’s like I’m already gone and am nostalgically re-visiting an old photo of the past. And I feel so sad, thinking I will not see this part of the world, maybe never again, but that’s mixed with the excitement that I am going to another part of this big crazy beautiful world. These thoughts that seem to come up out of nowhere and float around in my head….

Then this morning I had this urge to read something from Anne Lamotte. I haven’t read her books yet but do find whatever I stumble upon on the internet to be interesting, they grab hold of my attention. Sometimes the urge arises to read an article, an interview, something from a particular author… so I googled her name and came across this article she’d written for Salon.com (I really need to learn how to do those link thingees), and in it she describes how some members of her church commonly say to someone who’s going on a journey, “Traveling mercies” – be safe, notice beauty, enjoy the journey, God is with you. It was a funny feeling to realize, yes, that’s it – that feeling of leaving of a place, it’s when I allow myself to really see the beauty no matter what’s happened and grasp that sense of Life being so much grander than the difficulties I tend to fixate on in daily life. It’s a sort of detachment that allows me to breathe it all in (instead of being breathless and having it all stuck in a big knot in my throat), and embrace the ugly and lovely. Be safe, notice beauty, enjoy my journey, God is with me. Traveling mercies always, everyday.

Baby D

Happy happy birthday Baby D,

You are 2, but you’re still a baby to me. I think I can still call you my baby because there is still that “scent” about you – your neck smells so good, your breath is always sweet, and your feet are never stinky (ok sometimes they are stinky but they are yummy-stinky). When I ask if you are a baby or a big boy, you choose the answer which serves you best in that moment. Kudos to you, kiddo, for being your own top advocate.

You are a sweet sweet boy, talking more and more.  One of your favourite words is “Look!”, pronounced “Wook!”. When your siblings or Papi are not home, you sometimes miss them so much that you pace around the apartment with your arms in the air asking, “Guys??” (what you call your sisters) or “Papis??” (what you call Papi). Then you pick up the phone and have a mysterious conversation in baby language with some imaginary detective to find out their whereabouts. When your sisters laugh hysterically at something, you do the same even when you have no idea what they’re laughing at. You are lovely, you are beautiful, you are 2.

no idea why - but this is your favourite pose. you break into it often, out of nowhere, natural baby yoga

we are defenseless at the sight of your kissy-face

Thanks for reminding me….

“Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans”

adding to the list of things i don’t understand

When I was managing the database for Becas Vallarta, one of the things that really irked and confused me was why kids who go to public schools have to buy uniforms?? It’s ridiculous really, and so sad to see all the kids who can’t go to school because they don’t have an above 80% average for a scholarship or the money to pay for school supplies and, IRK, uniforms. Ridiculous and sad. On a relative level, these kids aren’t starving so, no, it’s not as “urgent” and, in a way, this sense of non-urgency really works against them because people aren’t as compelled to help. But they should be… because education is the way out for generations and generations and generations of people cleaning homes, sweeping other people’s floors, working for almost nothing, being treated like they’re less… on and on it goes.

Just thinking about Becas because I (like everyone else here in Canada) saw a news report about the long line-ups to buy the iPhone. I guess, on the one hand, I see that life is for enjoying, life is for living. I don’t think it’s my place to judge or that we’re here to be martyrs. Maybe we’re here to enjoy and share, and that’s the balance that’s missing… what do I know? nothing, absolutely nothing really. My mind is just a mumble bumble hodge podge of images, thoughts and ideas causing my heart to swell joyfully sometimes and pang so painfully other times…. speaking of the heart panging painfully, this is basically what popped into my mind (working in duality-mode again) when I saw the iPhone story…. I guess it’s just the sense that the world is so off… or maybe it’s always been this way, I don’t know.

what’s goin’ on

I’m writing a list today because the thoughts are scattered and I’m too tired to be fluid:

1. I’ve re-discovered Neil Young; specifically Harvest Moon, One of these Days, and Unknown Legend.

2. My body is sore from carrying my almost two year old around all day (it’s so hard to say good-bye to the stroller).

3. I’m feeling sad about my mom. She’s so lost and I’m starting to think (again) that I can’t do much really… I think.

4. I need to walk on a trail in a densely wooded old forest soon.

5. I need to start on my next paper because I can’t do one-nighters anymore and it’s due on Friday.

6. I am quite fixated with the show Intervention. There’s something about most of these people… I can’t help but think, “That could be me”… thin lines. Today the guy said that, post rehab, he has discovered that he is okay with feeling bad because sometimes he feels good now too and that’s a beautiful thing. It’s so much better than just trying to feel nothing.

courage

I remember when I was in school and I would cram all my studying into the last few minutes… my grades were as varied as my concentration levels back then. As a kid, I always thought that having consistently great grades translated into a big booming self-confidence. But now that I’m back in school and actually enjoying the process of learning (although it’d be nice to do it in times that are not usually set aside for, ummmm, sleep), and getting those grades that are supposed to make me feel ready to conquer the world… I am still terrified at the thought of job hunting. I guess confidence doesn’t lie in great grades after all. Where is it then? I don’t know, I’m still trying to figure that out. Why do all good things seem like light floating feathers that I’ve just happened to catch on some lucky day?  Maybe I feel undeserving, I’m not sure.  And maybe it’s not a good idea to get stuck in that breathless position. Before a big step, there is always that time when I am motionless. “Move”, I tell myself, but my body is stiff and powerless. Paralyzed by fear. And I am comfortable in that position. I think it’s important to admit that to myself.  It sounds bad but, you know, there is something worse than fear, and that is vulnerability.  Fear is a fortress.  But who really wants to live life as a fortress or a statue, frozen and silent on the sidewalk while life, laughter, and tears run by like a class of excited children on a special field trip.  One day, though, one day, I take the leap. I always do.  I come out of myself, walk behind me, and give myself a push.  Or sometimes, I put my arm around myself and say, “It’s okay, whatever happens, it’s okay”.  Because sometimes we just need to love ourselves that way, to not let life go by while we sit with our arms wrapped around our knees, heads tucked safely in our laps.  We need to open our arms and free fall, embracing the changes to come.