Setting Scraps of Light on Fire

Scraps of light through the adobe ruins next to the grove

Today is my one year blogoversary.  It is this and only this that has finally gotten me to sit down and write a post.  I have missed blogging and think about it almost every day, but my life has become so full of other things that I haven't had the inspiration.  To find some, I walked over to the church today, but there were too many people around so I ended up in the grove, where I sat and wrote this post by hand.   I have found myself sitting in the grove more often lately than in the church courtyard.  It's green again, although the mass graves of trees are still untended.

So much has happened since I last posted, that I don't know where to begin.  Should I tell you about my busy life?  The immense sense of loss and sadness I've been feeling?  Should I talk about how disconnected I've become from my writing?  

Or maybe I should try to be more positive, and tell you about my discoveries about bats, or the white cat I keep seeing, or my lemon tree dream.  But all these things are moments that have passed, inspirations that have faded in the face of too much work.

I'm not happy.  I know I need to just accept the way my life is right now, surrender to it.  Believe me, I'm working on that moment by moment, but there is a very sad little girl inside me who wants to come out and play.  And I don't know what to tell her to make her stop banging on the door.

And I realize how much I miss you all, my blogging friends.  It's not only the writing that I miss, it's the community, the support.  I feel very alone in my life these days, very much like I'm carrying a heavy burden by myself.  Stumbling and faltering under it.

But life goes on, and I just keep taking the next step.  At times I have glimpses of all this as a journey of significance, but mostly it just feels like stumbling in the dark.  I get tired of trying to hang onto the scraps of light that are tossed me.  I get mad at God for not giving me more, and then I'm ashamed for feeling that way.

And that's why I need - NEED - to write about those scraps, because it's the only way for me to hold onto them as guides, as reminders of the greater journey, the better story.  I need to tell you about last week when I had both a butterfly and a dragonfly on my finger in the same day.  They were both trapped in my house at different points, and I freed them.  

I need to tell you about dreaming of a sugarlaced lemon tree so glorious that gazing up into it was like eating the sun.

I need to tell you about the lessons bats have been trying to teach me about surrender and rebirth, about echolocation, in which bats navigate in the dark by using their voices to create sounds that reverberate off objects - the ability to see with the ears, to hear with the voice.  Because by telling you, I have a greater chance of really learning the lessons, internalizing and integrating them.  I too hear with my voice.  I learn by teaching.

And now, just by writing all this, I feel lighter, happier, inspired, free.  It occurs to me that this post follows a similar structure to some of the biblical psalms that start out with a lament and end with praise because by writing the lament the psalmist has seen the joy again.

Now I see that the writing I haven't been doing had hardened around me like ice, that scraps of light left unshared leave me cold, and once that happens, I have to write into the cold to break through it.

The fire must be tended or it dies out.  The fire must be fed, and for me that means writing it. 

Titles

One of the reasons it's taken me so long to post this is because I couldn't come up with a good title.  I have to admit, I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive when it comes to titles.  I love coming up with names for things, whether for blog posts, cats and dogs, or potential band names.  I've come up with so many great band names that then go right out of my head.  I really should write them down.

And speaking of titles, I have a couple of new ones in my life, which is why it's getting harder for me to post regularly.  One of my new titles is "Board Director."  I joined the board of Taos Youth Music School, an after school program my son participates in.  (Think "School of Rock" - it's awesome.)  Another new title is "Quiet Day Coordinator."  My friend Cathy and I are planning a quiet day at our church which will occur next Saturday.

I've had the title of "Instructor" for a while now, but at this time of the semester, I have the additional title of "Paper Grader."  Oh boy.  I've already attended two grading sessions for the exit essays with the other English instructors, and will attend two more next week, in addition to grading all of the final papers for both of my classes.

A title I've had off and on for years, but am now actively pursuing again is "Self-Employed Writer & Editor."  I've started a business called "Illuminated Manuscripts" which offers professional writing and editing services. My slogan is "We'll polish it until it shines." Here's the logo I designed:

I just got my first contract with UNM-Taos to write grants for their campus expansion!  If you need anything written, edited or proofread, let me know.

Thanks to the Postman, I also now have the title of "Superior Scribbler."  Thanks, Postman! 

So the rules of the game are that you're supposed to:

• Thank whoever nominated you for it...
• Post, paste, or patch the award's image onto your own blog...
• Tell your readers seven things they don't yet know about you...
• Pass it along to seven more bloggers...
• And notify them personally when you have done so.

Ok, so.  I've been thinking about these seven things.  There are so many odd and unknown things I could share, some negative and some positive.  It's hard to narrow it down to seven, but here goes:

1. I am a follower of the Eat Right 4 Your Type diet., and have been for almost a year. My blood type is O positive.  I've heard a lot of arguments against this diet, but it's worked great for me, not just in terms of weight loss, but overall health and sense of wellbeing.

2.  I smoke hand-rolled cigarettes, Drum brand.  The last of my nasty habits from the good old days of debauchery.

3.  I can tell you what year a book was published within five years by smelling it.

4.  I love to make collages.  Here's one I made for someone after I posted  here about needing to show thanks to certain people in my life:

5.  I've had some really nutty jobs.  Years ago, I did Tarot readings for LaToya Jackson's psychic line.  I also did singing telegrams for a while, but got fired because I sucked so bad.

6.  My Myers-Briggs personality type is INFP.  It used to be INTP - I'm pretty borderline between Thinking and Feeling.  It changed after I had kids.

7.  As a kid, I was obsessed with the band, Kiss.  My mom took me to the concert at Maple Leaf Gardens when I was 10 or 11.  Destroyer was my favorite album.  I had 43 Kiss posters up in my room, and threw a yearly birthday party for Paul Stanley.  I dressed up as him for Halloween once.

Now I'm supposed to give this award to seven other bloggers.  This is the hard part, because I'd like to award every blog I follow.

1.  The first blog I'd like to award is Whatever else my life is...it is also this dazzling darkness.  Rebecca has been a major inspiration in my blogging (and spiritual) life lately.  She lives in Alaska and loves snow.  She's an amazing photographer and writer, and reading her blog always brings me a feeling of peace.

2.  Dan Gurney at A Mindful Heart gets the next award.  Dan is a kindergarten teacher - he's taught at the same school for 29 years!  His blog is a wonderful mixture of spiritual insight and challenge and simple appreciation for life.

3.  Jennifer at One True Self is an amazing woman.  She has an aura of childlike wonder and innocence, but has worked very hard in her life to retrieve that.  And now she expresses it in her blog in the most honest and moving and helpful ways.

4.  Kat and Bet at The Bobwhites also get my vote.  I came across their blog via the "Next Blog" button (and this was when it still took you to a totally random blog).  These ladies live in different states but grew up together. They blog about everyday things with humor and linguistic dexterity, and they also present wonderful recipes.  You would not believe some of the things these ladies have cooked and baked.  You should definitely check out their gingerbread houses.

5.  Even though the Postman beat me to it, I have to offer this award to the lovely, stylish, savvy, feisty Entrepreneur Chick, whose blog and emails have offered me major encouragement as an entrepreneur.  She's also frequently hilarious and highly entertaining.

6.  I recently discovered Dreamfarm Girl.  This woman is a splendid writer.  Her blog covers a lot of territory, from the minute to the cosmic, but she manages to work it all together in a very satisfying way.

7.  I have to give this award back to the Postman.  His was one of the first blogs I started following, and I still just adore it.  He will always have a very special place in my blogging heart.  I love his wit and style, and his immaculate vocabulary.  His blog is quirky; it covers aviation, cocktail reviews, and strong opinions on a number of things ranging from samurai warriors to cartoons to snack foods.  An entertaining, insightful, humorous, and often informative read.  I never thought I'd learn so much about aviation - and like it! 

That about wraps it up.  Which reminds me.  Now I get to also carry the titles of "Gift Wrapper," and right now I'm going to be "Holiday Baker."  I'm making some truly decadent Bourbon Fruitcake today.  Well, starting it today, anyway.  It actually takes two weeks of soaking in brandy before it's done.

NO FRUITCAKE JOKES!!!  It's my blog, and I'm banning them.  I like fruitcake.  A lot.

Swan Song for The Moment

I can't believe it took me so long to discover the joys of blogging. In the few weeks since I started, I've already found and followed some fascinating connections, and met some truly wonderful people. The best thing about blogging is the conversations that happen, the sparks of inspiration that people start and pick up on and spread.

In the past couple of days, the word "interlacing" has appeared on two separate blogs that I follow.  In Song Lines, the most recent post on a hazy moon, a commenter used this word, and then on The Bobwhites, which I discovered via the "Next Blog" button, "Interlacing" was a blog title.

Dictionary.com defines "interlace" as:  "to cross one another, typically passing alternately over and under, as if woven together."  How beautiful is it that I'm exploring this word because of interlacing blogs? 

One of the themes that has emerged for me recently out of this interlacing is the relationship between freedom and safety. It started with Jennifer's post, What is a Safe Person?  (I'll come back to this in a moment).  Then, in the remedial college Reading class that I teach, we're reading Steinbeck's The Pearl.  When Kino finds The Pearl of the World and tries to sell it in town, the pearl buyers try to cheat him, offering a much lower price than the pearl is worth.  In class we discussed Kino's decision not to accept their offer.  By refusing it, he is standing up against a system that has oppressed his people for a long time, and therefore is putting himself in danger.  Freedom and safety are opposites.


This got me thinking.  Wasn't it Ben Franklin who said, "Those who would choose safety over freedom deserve neither"?  Why?  Is freedom inherently more valuable than safety, and if so why?  Is it just more "real"?   I think it's the  pursuit of safety over freedom that Ben was criticizing.  That this pursuit is fear-based.  But seeking freedom often is too.  I've encountered a lot of people who seem to equate freedom with mobility of some kind.  The ability to get out.  Is this not fear-based?  The need for open spaces is no "better" than the need for fences.


Another twisted expression of "freedom" is really recklessness in a very thin disguise.  I used to fall into this category.  Freedom to me meant being able to do whatever I wanted without restriction.  The result?  Harm to myself and others, of course.  Some of which I'm still dealing with today.


In my reading class we talked about how one people's freedom can be taken away so another people can feel safer.  I mentioned the internment camps of Japanese-Americans that were set up during World War II, and we discussed the racial profiling of Middle Eastern people (and others) that's been happening since 9/11.  Where do you draw the line when it comes to creating safety?  is the question we tackled, but could not arrive at a consensus.  And apparently, no one ever has, except maybe certain Gandhi-esque organizations.  Whole nations though?  Forget it.

The question is too abstract, too philosophical.  Too unsafe.  Define freedom.  Define safety.  Can you do it off the top of your head?  Now go ask your neighbor the same question.  Leave your gun at home.


The principle of oppression for the sake of safety can even be seen in nature.  A minor example that I came across recently has to do with the way flowers secure pollination. Many flowers have evolved methods of depositing pollen on bees in a way that the bee can't get the pollen off. Only by entering another flower of the same kind, that's equipped to scrape the pollen, will the bee become free of it. A bee may fly around for days with a big clump of pollen stuck to one of these “safe sites” - say on the top of the head, or the abdomen. It's like an itch in the middle of your back you can't quite reach.

Some people seem to equate freedom with NOT feeling safe - atheist fundamentalists,  deconstructionist zealots - who say either directly or indirectly:  Only stupid (i.e.,unfree) people feel safe.  Like most extremist statements, there is a grain of truth to it.  Many people do coddle themselves into a stupor by any number of sad little means.  But I think, life being what it is, we all do it sometimes.

I think it's just all about balance.  An excess of freedom (in the sense, let's say, of expanding boundaries) makes us swing back to safety-seeking, because we get afraid.  In fact, my life has been like that lately.  Because of blogging, teaching again, and joining a non-profit board, I've really been putting myself "out there," after a long cocooning period.  Sometimes I need to step back, regroup.  The point, I think, is to do this with awareness, as a means to keep growing - not as an escape or shutting down.

With this awareness, comes the realization that there is a place where freedom and safety coexist.  Jennifer's post deals with the idea that for freedom to exist in an intimate relationship, there must be a sense of safety, real trust.  And they grow in proportion to each other.

And yet, this kind of trust opens you to that strange recognition of the Other, suddenly seeing how big you both are, on opposite sides of a universe that you're meeting across. And embracing there is the least safe thing you can do, ego-wise.

Which just goes to show how differently the ego and the spirit can define both freedom and safety. This is why, to me, true freedom is a paradox. There is a freedom in decisiveness, commitment to a path. The fish isn't free if he escapes the bowl.  Bees enjoy the freedom to be sky-wanderers, to fly to many flowers, but this comes through participating in a highly structured and disciplined society.  As a poet, it took me a long time to embrace anything but free verse. When I finally learned to write formal poetry, I realized the potential in submitting to a discipline. By mastering a form, you gain a new kind of freedom. The same is true of dance, or painting, or raising children.  Boundaries, parameters must be recognized and accepted before they can be expanded.


All of this is so complex. I hope I haven't lost anybody here. Really, I think it's very simple - If you feel free, you are. Because freedom is a state of being, not a set of circumstances. The best analogy I can come up with is singing in prison. One of my very favorite bible stories is in Acts 16, when Paul and Silas sing in a jail cell, until an earthquake breaks the bars. I also think of the line from Tori Amos' song, "Crucify": You're just an empty cage if you kill the bird.


Kim Ayres recently posted here about starting a day off grumpy, but eventually being drawn out of it by a scene of beauty. Responding to beauty, to the moment, allowing oneself to be drawn out of misery – that's freedom. It comes with awareness. It's the ability to sing in a cage, to love your enemy.  And this is also the only safety there is.

One of Kim's commenters gave some interesting info about swan folklore, since a swan was featured in the photos on that post. What really got me thinking was the concept of the “swan song.” According to Wikipedia, “The phrase "swan song" is a reference to an ancient belief that the Mute Swan (Cygnus olor) is completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies, when it sings one beautiful song.” And so, says Wikipedia:

By extension, "swan song" has become an idiom referring to a final theatrical or dramatic appearance, or any final work or accomplishment. It generally carries the connotation that the performer is aware that this is the last performance of his or her lifetime, and is expending everything in one magnificent final effort.

 There is a Zen story about a man being chased by a tiger until he comes to the edge of a cliff. He clambers over the side and grabs hold of a vine. As he's hanging there, he sees that there's another tiger below him, waiting for him to fall. And then two mice come along and start gnawing at the vine. He notices some strawberries growing on the cliff face next to him, and sees the most luscious red strawberry he's ever seen. He reaches over, picks it and eats it. And he thinks to himself, “Ah, how sweet it is!”

Freedom is the swan song in every moment.

An Eight-Track Mind

A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. ~Annie Dillard

It occurred to me recently that I could view my life using the model of a flower, where each of the petals represents a major aspect of my life.  Some people have a one-track mind - mine is more like an 8-track, and I need to find a way to divvy up my time and energy and still maintain some sort of balance.

I've always been one to wear a lot of different hats.  My entire adult life I've never had a full-time job, but have often had two or three at once, as well as volunteering in various capacities.

For the past few months, I've been working on opening a business, a laundromat called GreenSuds.  And this semester, I started teaching college English classes after a year-and-a-half-long hiatus.  Now, on top of all that, I started this blog.  Adding these new components to my already busy life is what's prompted me to more deliberately prioritize.

So I went online to look for a blank flower diagram that I could fill in, and discovered two things:  1)  sites that used to offer that sort of thing for free when I was homeschooling my daughters are now subscription sites, and, 2)  apparently the concept of a flower diagram as an organizer is not a new concept.

(I always have mixed feelings when I discover that something I thought I made up already exists.  On the one hand, I feel confirmed, validated, and connected to the collective unconscious or whatever, but I can't help but also feel like I've missed a boat.  Did you know that I'm actually the person who invented grips on pens and fast food restaurants inside gas stations?  I'm the Tesla of trivial ideas.

I really should have known about the flower diagram, since I'm an English teacher and "clustering" is one of the concepts I teach my students for organizing their papers.  There's a fine line between a blob surrounded by and connected to other blobs, and a flower with a center and petals.)

Since I couldn't find a blank diagram, I used an actual photo instead, which is much prettier anyway.  I have to say, with this blogging business, I've been learning a lot of new skills, but the one that tops the charts this week is learning to put text into a photo.

After I got the basic categories down, I made a two-column list, one column for how strong my desire is to do each activity, and one for how much time that activity requires.  I didn't spend a lot of time thinking; I just did it off the top of my head, trusted my initial responses.  Looking at it now, I'm not sure how helpful it really is.  First of all, it makes me feel guilty, like certain things "should" be higher on the desire list than others.  The fact is, all of these things are almost equally important to me, which is why they get to be petals on the flower in the first place.  Trying to prioritize them is extremely difficult - at least, doing it this way, by a list.

So I went to Plan B.  I wrote out a blank weekly schedule, and then filled it in, and that's what really worked.  I realized that I have more time than I thought I did, and more importantly, that it's ENOUGH time to do all of these things, and do them well.

The real problem is when one thing interrupts another's allotted time.  For instance, my son keeps interrupting me as I'm writing this.  Getting other people in my life (i.e., my children) to respect the aspects of my life that don't involve them is definitely the biggest challenge.  Which is another reason why having a fairly orderly schedule is helpful - because then I can say, Right now is my writing time.  When I'm done, let's go for a walk.

I'm done.  I'm going for a walk.