Balance point

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“This is the first time the girl becomes aware that the world requires something other than what she is.”

–Lesley Nneka Arimah, What It Means When a Man Falls From the Sky: Stories

 

This Friday I am thinking about expectations, and about balance.  The world might expect something different than what we are or what we want, but that doesn’t mean we are obligated to give in to that expectation.  Find your bliss, find your fulcrum, and don’t let the world upset the balance you find.

father/time

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Daddy and me, 1982

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so passes

the golden autumn

of this world

into a dark/light place

made of lengthening shadows

and warm tender moments alike.

poignant relief marks the passing

of each second and season,

pearls on a string slipping away

through fingers

roughened by time,

all the more cherished

for that which has gnarled them.

fear not,

though a shadow passes over your eyes

at the thought

of things unknown.

in the end,

you are loved.

–Charla M. DelaCuadra

 

One of the difficulties in getting older is watching your parents age.  It is bittersweet, getting to know your parents better as adults and as people, while also watching the twilight years of someone you love.  I wrote this poem with my dad in mind, who is in his eighties and is having some health issues.  While we all struggle with things like money, our houses or vacation time, or our goals both long-term and fleeting — I think in the end, we all just want to be loved.

Love your solitude

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“Therefore, dear Sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away… and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast…. be happy about your growth, in which of course you can’t take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don’t torment them with your doubts and don’t frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn’t necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust…. and don’t expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”

― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

I read Rilke’s Letters years ago and felt such a resonance in my young spirit.  I’m feeling a bit off-kilter as many things are in flux at the moment — perhaps it is a good time to return to those encouraging words I found so dear.  Wishing you confidence and calm as the week comes to a close, and happy Friday!

Getting warmer

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My visit to the Metamorphosis & Migration exhibit, Oakland Museum of California.

Yesterday on Cup of Jo, the fantastic Caroline Donofrio wrote about a five-word quote that she said changed her life: “Cool is an emotional straightjacket.”

Whoa.  Whoa.  That really got me thinking.  It really is.  How often do we censor ourselves for fear of what other people will think about us?  Maybe it is reining in enthusiasm about an interest that isn’t “cool enough,” or swallowing a sentiment because we feel obligated to “play it cool.”  Maybe it is putting down other women to seem like the “cool girl.”  Or maybe it is putting that favorite sweater/jacket/scarf/hat/whatever back in the closet with a sigh, wishing it were still “cool.”

The prospect of living my life in an invisible straightjacket seems terribly sad.  We are bombarded by admonitions to just “be yourself,” to “live authentically.”  But what does this mean?  I like to think I am forging my own path.  But when I get dressed in the morning, when I chime into a conversation, when I choose the restaurant for a group night out?  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want the approval of others.

Perhaps this is a part of that ever-elusive self-care: to truly allow ourselves to be.  Be unique, be freer with our affections, be engrossed by the things that make us smile, be supportive of our fellow women without fear of not being “cool enough,” be unencumbered by what we think is expected of us in a million tiny ways.  Of course, this is an enormously difficult task.  But by recognizing this propensity for what it is rather than move invisibly constricted through our days , we can make an important first step.  Recognize that second-guessing, recognize the holding back, and act accordingly.

Caroline closes with his gem: “After all, the opposite of cool… is warm. Doesn’t that sound nice?”  It does, Caroline.  It really does.

 

The small and the daily

“Because it’s true: more than the highlights, the bright events, it was in the small and the daily where she’d found life.”

-Lauren Groff, Fates and Furies

I took this photo while walking my dogs one morning, utterly struck by these tiny perfect flowers in the most unexpected place.  They were an excellent reminder that beauty doesn’t always come with fanfare — sometimes it is the smallest little detail of a daily routine that can make us smile the most.

Two great books

Last week I dove headfirst into a pair of great novels, one after the other.  Both were intimate, searing looks at love, relationships, and life.

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Call Me By Your Name is one of the most achingly beautiful books I have read in a while.  This love story unfolds over a few weeks of summer in Italy, and is poignant in ways I can’t quite find the words for.  We inhabit the head of the protagonist, inhabit the sleepy Italian villa, and at the same time we feel every dull throb of longing from every past desire in our own lives.  I read this in a night and a day, and was gripped from start to finish.  André Aciman’s prose is tender and desperate by turns, fleshing out a love that is somehow both fleeting and transcendent.  An exquisite read that will leave you thinking about love and life and the way each changes the other for years to come.

fates_and_furies_coverFates and Furies gripped me just as much, but in an entirely different way.  Like Call Me, I couldn’t put it down, and finished it in less than two days.  This novel, too, explores a relationship, this time between a husband and wife over the course of their marriage (and beyond).  I’m not even actually sure if I enjoyed it, per se, but it was an intense experience to see their relationship from both sides of the coin.  It was very thought-provoking, and I think I am still digesting it — I haven’t started another book yet for that very reason.  One takeaway from this novel for me is the fact I want to be known.  I want to feel understood and loved for me, not for a construct someone has in their mind.  And I don’t want to be left with an impotent rage over the paths my life has taken (or not).  But then on the other hand, can we ever really know another person, truly?  We inhabit this body in this life, and everyone else is relegated to observer by default.  How much can we know?  How much can we be known?  Lauren Groff’s style is very compelling, and once you wander into this Greek drama, you’ll want to stay and ponder long after the curtain closes.

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…and morning seemed light-years away

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Interior view, SFMOMA

“Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, and morning seemed light-years away.”

-André Aciman, Call Me By Your Name

Time is such a fickle, fluid thing.  We swim through it daily, but understand it so little.  Some hours drag, while days can flash by in what feels like an instant.  I’m not sure there is anything we immerse ourselves in so completely that we experience in such varied and mysterious ways, except for maybe love.

Putting my ̶b̶e̶s̶t̶ foot forward

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After the rain, Galerie d’Orléans, Paris

Being a perfectionist with anxiety is a difficult combination.  For years I thought procrastination was a bad habit I couldn’t seem to kick.  Recently, though, I have realized it is more of a symptom than a bad habit.  I habitually worried so much about whether I’d truly be able to do my best, and whether that best would be good enough, that I put things off until the fear of complete failure eclipsed the fear of “not good enough.”  Ta-da!  Last minute, there I was.  Stressed and harried, procrastinator extraordinaire.

I am starting to teach myself that sometimes, good enough is just fine.  The old adage of “just do your best” can be problematic for me because I always think I can do it a little better.  Was this my best?  Not quite, I should work harder.  Put more time into it.  Stop being so lazy and do more.  It wouldn’t end.  The negative feedback loop was on repeat, all the time.  So now I am learning that some days I am inspired, and most days I can put forth excellent work.  But if I am having an off day, it is okay.  Putting one foot in front of the other is better than freezing into perfection-induced paralysis, because then I am still making progress.  And if I am having a really bad day, that is okay, too.  We can’t be full speed ahead, all the time, every day.  The world has seasons and rhythms and so do we.  I read an article last month that keeps coming to mind — how winter is a great reminder to give yourself permission to slow down — and I’ve been trying to take that to heart.  Slowing down sometimes is okay.  Stopping to recharge sometimes is not only okay, but necessary.  Huh.  How novel, right?

We can be our own worst critics more often than not.  I seem to be very good at reminding friends and the people I care about to slow down and take good care of themselves, and not very good at treating myself with the same care.  “Treat yourself the way you would a good friend” seems a bit trite, but it is more difficult than one might think!  Would I berate a friend for being too tired at the end of the day to take on an extra project?  Of course not.  Would I call them lazy and tell them to put in more effort when they are already doing good things?  Never.  Perhaps it is time we all give ourselves some gentleness.  Our society seems built on more-better-harder-faster, which can make it difficult.  But the world needs more kindness right now, and starting with oneself can be a quietly revolutionary thing, indeed.

somewhere else

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Street view, San Francisco

“This person, this self, this me, finally, was made somewhere else. Everything had come from somewhere else, and it would all go somewhere else. I was nothing but a pathway for the person known as me.”

― Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

I’m wishing I were somewhere else today.  It is one of those days where you wish things could be different, but you aren’t sure how or why, and you have no idea how to get there.  Perhaps it is our human craving for stability juxtaposed with the ever-changing nature of the universe that has me aching.  Or maybe it is just the middling-ness of it being Wednesday.  Some days are for blazing trails, but today I am just quietly walking my pathway, wishing it would take me somewhere.  Somewhere else.

That’s my jam

 

This weekend I took some time on a gloriously rainy Saturday afternoon to putter in the kitchen and make some jam.  This seemingly simple project was one literally years in the making.  There was a tea bar years ago that served a lovely afternoon tea, including homemade spreads and preserves.  One of my very favorites was their strawberry black pepper jam, and I missed it when they closed up shop.  Cue the very-occasional brief longing, and then the inspiration to make some myself, and then the busyness that inevitably made me forget about it for another year, and then another… and another.  How many times do we think, “I’d like to do XYZ,” and then it hits the back burner as life and to-dos and work take over indefinitely?

Well, my friends, this was the day.  I used this recipe from Epicurious, doubled the quantity, and added a good amount of cook time to get the jammy consistency I wanted.  It turned out delicious, and I spent a very happy weekend eating my preserves on toast with a bit of chèvre.  I also now have 8 little jam pots (very Meg from Little Women, although mine jelled!) sitting in the fridge, ready to be enjoyed or distributed to loved ones.

Not only did I finally get my jam, but the whole little adventure got me thinking about the want-to vs. the have-to.  We’re all very busy, all the time.  We have tons of things we have to do.  I commute a long way, so it often seems that my downtime is even more scarce than most.  But the immense satisfaction of enjoying something you really want to do outweighs even the most efficiently handled to-do list every time (and believe me, I love a tidy finished to-do list).  Let’s resolve to find more time for the want-to.  Schedule it, prepare for it, treat it with the same priority as the rest of your to-do list.  It may seem like less “fun” if it is something you have to schedule, but it will be so enjoyable to actually get to paint that watercolor, go explore that new bakery, make that jam, or learn to knit when you finally do make time for it.  Trust.