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.
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:
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).
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.
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.
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.
I wrote my midterm for my writing course last night. Not sure how I did but isn’t it a great feeling when it’s done?! Now the sun is out and the kids have their last day of school tomorrow. It feels like summer and it feels good. I’ve spent the last few months running around, worrying too much, studying late at night, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, taking the kids to their recitals and tournaments, but I feel a big sigh of relief coming. There’s still studying to do, but it is going to be a nice break not having to rush around in the morning or afternoon, or take the kids to any classes. A couple of months without the clock. A dream.
I’ve rewarded myself with a new novel (bought not borrowed!) – Michael Ondaatje’s Divisadero. I think I like books better than diamonds… yes, definitely more than diamonds. More than most things, I think. Just started it this morning and I am already cozied into the story. Some stories have this way of drawing you in right away. His writing has a laziness about it but the imagery and dream-like quality… well, for me, it’s like watching The English Patient. I just want to sit down with some little nibbly snacks and watch the story unfold all the way to the end.
Have I mentioned how much I love being with my girls? They are really coming into their own these days. There’s that point when kids don’t have to try so hard because they’ve pretty much learned the basics of life – to walk, to go to bed, to eat without running off, to write, to respect others (ok most of the time on this last one)… and so they start to develop their own unique personalities, refine themselves, to write funny or sweet stories, to love horror movies or hide under the covers, and to dream of their future. It’s pretty neat.
Hm, that’s funny. I used the word “dream” in every paragraph.
Maya has the funniest habit of waking up with odd requests. This morning I was taking little elastics out of Chabela’s hair (they wanted curls today so they slept with 6 little buns portruding from their heads – oh the vanity!), and, out of that defining silence between sleepiness and wakefulness, Maya declared from her bed, “I’m going to change my name. Can I change my name?”. “Um… ok honey..”, I responded. What does this kid dream about?!
She explained that there are way too many Mayas in Canada (it’s an odd name in Mexico) so she will now, hereby, from henceforth, solemnly swear to only answer to her middle name “Lucy” (this is actually the English version of her real middle name “Lucia”). Apparently, the soccer coach called her to play yesterday but another Maya ran onto the field instead. Oh the horror. Of course, I forgot all morning, and, wow, sure enough, she was quick to remind me every single time I said “Maya” that her name is now “Lucy”. She always was my Lucy in the Sky anyways….
Sometimes I worry… she’s seven and wants pink hair, skull-patterned clothing, sleep-overs at friends’ homes, and, now, name changes. Hopefully, she won’t run off to Mexico when she’s older. Or maybe hopefully she will?? Pretty wild the push and pull of parenting. I’m always in between wanting them to live life fully and pulling them close to me, safe from the crazy world.
The skies cleared up this afternoon so the kids and I spent a few hours after school in the park. It was refreshing to be outside and enjoy being with them. Baby D had so much fun climbing and sliding and letting out his inner goofball. We had some good belly laughs. Nothing like listening to kids laughing so full and free/unrestrained. It’s sad to say that days and sometimes a week will pass before I let out a big laugh. I need to work on that. Laugh daily. It’s a must, I think. Because tonight, I felt good. Seeing the beauty, being content, smiling, laughing – I need to tend to those things daily. I’m sure everyone else already knows this. Sometimes it gets dark and I forget.
I met my mom yesterday for lunch to celebrate her birthday. Lunch went fine but when we walked to her car, she started to get teary eyed. Thinking about the past. It’s hard to see her so sad and nostalgic and still wishing her parents had been there for her. Still a kid waiting to be hugged or fed or loved, a kid in the body of a woman getting another year older. I wished I could make it better, make her feel good about the world even though that’s not what was tattooed, branded into her little heart and soul when she was young and vulnerable. Now she is a cactus heart, and even though she is sad and lonely, all of her actions serve only to push people away. She reaches out, I try to pull her up, and she pushes back until she falls. People run from her, and I don’t blame them.
Today I was watching the Canadian government’s official apology to the Aboriginal people, and I started to imagine all these kids so lost and mistreated like my mom and her brothers. I saw them get teary eyed as the leaders read out their apologies. Thinking about the past. I understand their pain and their agony and their need for an apology. I understand that it hurts even for the generation that didn’t directly experience the horrors of residential schools. Saying I’m sorry means “No, you are not a piece of trash even though you were treated like one sometimes. You are worthy, I see it”. It takes generations to heal. I hope their time, her time, my time has come. I know it never comes so easily. We can only forgive, hang on to hope, and move forward. And breathe, always remember to breathe.
