I know myself as well as I possibly can at this moment. 

and I see myself in everyone else.  and I see everyone else in everyone else.  and they are all incredibly beautiful and if I look at you and see beauty, in your pain, in your elation, in your fragility, in your strength, does that mean that those parts of me are beautiful too?  if I fall in love with the light shining from you, but don't covet it, does it mean I have my own light already? 

if he says that people are incredibly generous and invigorating, does he see them that way because he is so incredibly generous and invigorating?  if she writes a poem called "The Thaw" about this springtime and her own thawing, does that mean she sees warmth in others too? 

My mom called me today and read me her poem.  It was so hopeful.  (more so because I know the backstory?)   I breathed easier as I listened.  I felt something loosen in my chest as it must have been loosening in hers as she wrote.  Right now, writing is her therapy.  I'm thankful that she has found her way through. 

I just got home from listening to Augusten Burroughs speak for an hour.  I laughed - too loud as usual.  I verged on tears.  I stood in line to ask him to sign his book and when people got in line behind me, I stepped out of line and moved to the back.  I wanted not to hurry.  When I spoke with him, for less than 30 seconds, he was so genuine, so open and yes, generous and invigorating, the fine blond hairs on my arms stood up under my black fleece sweater.  I got goosebumps. 

It wasn't a crush, but a recognition of one another's humanity.  Here was a person who was radically honest and, I think, by so being, could see and feel honesty in others.  

Augusten Burroughs closed his talk tonight by saying that at one time he hated everyone and everything and that all that changed when he became an author.  Yes, he did say, shortly before that, that people are incredibly generous and invigorating. 

He said, at some point in his talk, how when he was on a book tour during one of the presidential races that he couldn't tell whether he was in a red state or a blue state, though from watching the news you would've thought we were on the verge of civil war.  He said, overall, people pretty much care about the same stuff, worry about the same things and during the question and answer time someone asked him what do people care about.  1) their kids, 2) love/marriage/that primary relationship, 3)fulfilling a dream or getting in touch.....   (I paraphrased -- meaning.)  and worry about?  am I the only one?  having a secret.   am I normal?  am I right?  is there something wrong with me? 

He said how it's good that speaking to groups of people on book tours is different every time, depending on the audience, because, "I can't stand re-runs." and went on to elaborate in his own expletive dotted language about how he abhors being irritated and, if I can remember correctly, how irritating re-runs in life are. 

Mr. Burroughs, Augusten, talked about memories:  how he remembers things and only trusts the memory the first time he has it, how he needs to be ready to write it down (the way you must type out your dreams, jeannie) immediately, how he heard on fresh air (he even did a Terry Gross impression briefly) about how neurotransmitters etch a memory in our brain and how each time we access it, new etching happens (like adding to a tattoo a teeny bit at a time?) and so by simply remembering a memory, we alter it and each time we access that memory again it is altered again, physically altered, until the memory is like a simple statement that has been through a game of "Telephone" (love that game too, for discussions of percpetion and impeccability and training new 9-1-1 dispatchers).  [oh! and I love(!) Fresh Air and I love, love, love(!) brain/consciousness science writing! oh swoon~~ ] 

Augusten Burroughs ("Augusten" feels too familiar, too intimate and "Mr. Burroughs" feels too formal for the person I heard and saw tonight, so I shall stick to his name as it is on the cover of his books, as he was introduced this evening, both names together.)  suggests, that if you are writing a memoir, you should put all the details down, just as they were, just exactly as you remember them, at least until you are finished with the writing, because if you change "Alison"'s name to "Carol" in your mind, Alison will start to behave differently because she will no longer be Alison in your mind, she will be Carol and she will start to act like Carol.  Change the details that need to be changed to protect the innocent or not so innocent after you are through writing down your memoir.  This is advice I can appreciate. 

There is a yoga teacher that I know who often says, "in other words", and I like it because she is trying to share her knowlege with her students in some way that they can understand.  She is not too self conscious about the words she uses, she is more conscious of whether her message is being understood.  I thought of her tonight at one point when Augusten Burroughs said "in other words".

Tonight, Augusten Burroughs, spoke for a bit about authenticity.  He talked about how he loves Elizabeth Berg's writing because of it's authenticity.  He said she doesn't show off and that her writing doesn't have any false notes.  He said she does what Updike did, but she doesn't have a penis and so she gets the trivializing label of "women's interests" or something like that.  He called what she does "exquisite".  He said, "we need that authenticity".  I love that word, exqusite.  I like it so much that I gave myself a new email address last week, to mail myself important things, sort of like a journal, if you need to mail me anything delectable or exquisite or essential it's "delectable dot exquisite at gmail dot com".  ;-)  (not kidding)

There is so much I'm leaving out.  So much can happen during an hour long talk.  So much person was there on the stage with a microphone and still there, perhaps even more so, behind the table, signing books. 

In short, Mr Augusten Burroughs, was delectable, exquisite, human, strong, fragile, honest in a flamboyant sort of way; breathtaking....   alive.  So alive.  I am so thankful for his ability to share his experience.  It touched me in ways I will not even try to convey here.  Instead I'll say goodnight and go to my bed with a good book (A Wolf at the Table by, yes, you guessed it, Augusten Burroughs), a glass of red wine, a small bar of 70% dark chocolate, a bottle of water for morning (4 am comes earlier than you might think and emergencies don't wait for when it's convenient) and a big down comforter.  It's 10:30 now.  I should be able to finish a few chapters and still get some decent amount of sleep before work time. 

The photograph is from just outside the place where the talk was tonight, from my phone.  I cursed myself for leaving the big camera behind as I snapped this.  I should never, ever, ever leave the good camera behind, because, like memories, moments never are the same twice.  Augusten Burroughs said this too, no person is the same as another, no matter that we are indeed all similar in the things we care about and the things we worry about-- we are all individual. 

How well do I know myself?  I don't know.  I'm still learning myself.  I might be different tomorrow or after my next breath.  [Inhale, hold it, exhale, ahhhhhh, yes, that's slightly different than before............   to be continued. 

(from July 13th, 2007)

happy (son, sun, mom, mum)

how can I write
about happy tonight?
I'm thinking it'll sound a bit sappy
yes, quite(!)
to put on this paper
a caper?
no….    delight(!)
laughy, daffy, joyous plight
of how to convey
my lack of dismay
at the storm of emotions
that reign (rain?)
when all at once again
I realize
that you are my bright sun
and I am your fair mum


-Dawn C Dexter, fall 1992
 

I like to think that I might have something up my sleeve to add to this....

http://www.flickr.com/groups/freeverse/

I might be waiting for more of us humans to find out that we don't need "stuff" to be happy.  I might be waiting for summer.  I might be waiting for Independence Pass to open so that I can go over to the other side of the Continental Divide and visit the property that Adam & I bought a few years ago.  I might be waiting to save enough money to build a sustainable house there, an earthship sort of structure, with a greenhouse built right in to the living space.  I might be waiting for 5 pm, so I can ride my bike again.  I might be waiting to see if it really snows agan. 

but then again, I'm not really waiting for those things.  I'm not really anticipating them.  I'm looking forward to them, while enjoying this minute.  Just behind this computer monitor where I am typing, there is a large window and my eyes keep wandering out.  I can see several trees, several buildings, a big pile of snow, some bare ground, a whole in the wall of the building next door where a very small bird seems to be nesting, a mountain and a slice of sky.  It's a north easterly view.  The blue of the sky is slowly deepening.  The sun is climbing down the mountain.  It will reach the valley floor by the time I finish posting this. 

Deepening....  that's what this article I just read from the No Impact Man blog is talking about...............

This is a guest post by my friend Sean Sakamoto who writes the blog I'd Rather Be In Japan.

"Thrift can take lasting hold of a consumer society, to disastrous effect."
--The New York Times

I keep reading about how saving is the worst thing for the economy. The New York Times article from which the above quote is taken described Japanese savers as “dead weight.” The underlying assumption is that we must consume more and more to keep the economy growing. People produce things, other people consume those things, and as long as the numbers go up and up, everything is great.

A couple of things bother me about this. One is the matter of sustainability. The air we breathe, the water we drink, and the land we farm is already being fouled as a result of economic growth. How long is this supposed to go on before we look for another principle around which to organize our lives?

The other thing that I wonder what it means to produce and to consume? When savers stop spending, do they really stop consuming? If I skip dinner out and movie, and instead talk with a friend, what just happened? Did the virtuous cycle of production and consumption just end? If I sing a song for you, and you listen to it, am I producing and are you consuming? To answer this question, I have to first take a detour into the subject of bamboo.

Seven months ago my wife and I left our lives in New York City and moved to rural Japan, where we live with our six-year-old son. We’re looking for an old farm house to move into, so we can grow our own food and live more simply. It’s a back to the land fantasy, I know, but we got a taste of it when we volunteered on a farm a year ago. It seems like a good life.

Since we landed in Japan, a man named Mr. Hatori offered to teach me how to play a bamboo flute called the shakuhachi. I didn’t have much interest in his proposal, but I agreed because it seemed crazy to turn down free music lessons. In the past seven months that I’ve been learning to play, I’ve discovered that this bamboo flute is considered by some to be the most difficult instrument in the world. I’m not surprised. It has been humbling, frustrating, and rewarding.

It’s taken me months to be able to produce any sound at all, and the sounds I can finally make are often completely out of tune. I learned that the instrument was invented by Buddhist monks, and the focus and dedication required to play even a single note well is a form of meditation.

My teacher is extremely patient. He spends an hour a week with me. Together we go over the same song note by note, over and over. I’m a long, long way from playing the thing correctly, or even coming close, but I really enjoy it, and the daily practice calms my mind. According to Mr. Hatori, it will be years before I can play the song with any facility.

This brings me back to production and consumption. If I learn this flute, and I play it daily, am I producing anything? If I ever get good enough that anyone would want to hear me play, is that person consuming my product? Is the knowledge that Mr. Hatori is passing on a product? If it is, it sure is easy to store.

When I moved to Japan, I had to get rid of a lot of products. Books, CDs, furniture, knick-knacks, souvenirs, bowls, knives, dishes, appliances, I’m talking about a lot of stuff, and that was just what we could fit in our two-bedroom apartment. As we sorted through each of our worldly possessions, the same questions kept popping up: What to keep, what to throw away? Do we need this thing to be happy? The answer was usually no.

Did we have to buy all that stuff to keep other people happy, the people who sold it for enough money to buy stuff to put into their own homes? Were these the artifacts of our participation in the economy, evidence of our good citizenship? Talk about dead weight, those piles of stuff were exhausting to go through.

I know that we need food and we need shelter. I love a good movie, a good book, some music, a nice plate to serve dinner on, a great table to sit at, and a handy gadget that helps me clean up after. But am I less happy without those things? Does my happiness, and the happiness of everyone else, rely on me buying all that stuff, or if I don’t have the money, to buy it on credit?

It takes a decade to learn to make a good flute out of a piece of bamboo. It takes a decade to learn to play that flute. It can take just as long to learn to write a novel, and it could take just as long to read one. One professor I had said we can never read great novels, we can only re-read them. Appreciation requires repetition.  Is the third reading of a book still consumption, or have we become dead weight at that point?

What if, instead of spending so much time getting more stuff, we get the kind of stuff that we can spend more time with? We develop skills we can share, read good books over and over, buy tools that take a lifetime to master. What if we go deeper into life, instead of dabbling with a million different products? What would an economy like that look like?

I’ve taken so many assumptions about life for granted that I forgot that many of them were choices I made at one time or another. I chose to acquire disposable entertainment, to clutter my kitchen with gadgets and plates for every occasion. Now I’m trying to live with less, and have it mean more to me.

I want my garbage to go back to the soil, to grow the food I eat. I want to consume less, and to produce things that people don’t have to keep on shelves or put into boxes when they move. The way the economy is going, we might not have much choice. We might have to make more with less, why not make it a virtue instead of an affliction?

I would like to be of service to the people around me without just buying more stuff or making more knick-knacks, and I’d like this to happen in an economy where people who do so aren’t called “dead weight.” I’d also like to hit the right note on that bamboo flute. Both seem impossible, but the cherry trees are in full bloom, and with the sun shining on those pink blossoms in the morning light, it seems like anything can happen.

This book is part of my daydreaming [maybe daydreaming is a form of waiting, but no, they feel quite different to me, I don't think I really spend much time waiting], part of my future and part of my now........
The Self-Sufficient Life and How to LIve It.  by John Semour    It's completely fascinating.  It makes me want to grow things and make things AND it tells me exactly how to do it.  I love it!!  I'm planting strawberries and raspberries in the yard this year!!  The strawberries are already planted in the house, growing toward the light that comes in the south facing windows.  Are they waiting for it to be warm enough to go and grow outside?  No, they seem to be growing and reaching from right where they are.  I've been singing to them daily.  And then I sing to the houseplants so they won't feel left out.  :-) 

So, I don't feel like I'm waiting, rather, I feel like I'm growing and discovering. 

I don't think there is such a thing as enlightened with a period, like completely, perfectly, forever enlightened.  I think we can become more enlightened than yesterday and tomorrow we can become more enlightened than today and etc, but not end-of-the-line-you-did-it-so-now-you-can-just-do-nothing enlightened.  I think enlightenment is a verb that you have to keep doing, more than a noun sort of thing that you become.  and I don't think it's done to you.  I think you have to just keep doing it.  like walking.  like breathing.  it gets easier, but you have to use it or lose it, like muscles or lung capacity. 

I suspect that this consciousness / oneness that is the universal everything, that is us......    I suspect that when I see myself all "perfect" and "enlightened", that's when I / the universe gives me another challenge to overcome.  Like a patient teacher who only gives you the lesson that you need today today.  And once you've mastered that lesson, then you can have the next one.  But I think you get a minute or a day or two to enjoy the feeling of mastery and accomplishment and then you get the next one.   And there's plenty of time for each one, you don't have to hurry or cuss yourself out if you don't get it the first time.  The universe / yourself  that is the patient teacher, isn't in any hurry.  You can have the same lesson over and over and over again if you like.  or just review it some time later.  ;-)

That's just what I believe right now, this minute.  Maybe the more enlightened me that exists next month or next year will know better.  I'm okay with that. 

Today I'm feeling a bit of a sense of accomplishment and mastery because I've remembered to breathe deeply and smile and because I started my work day with a bit of humble pie served warm and fresh, with a dolop of humor.  I had to apologize for being an intolerant know-it-all to someone else who I thought was being an intolerant (and rather noisy) know-it-all.  hehehe.  :-P     life is beautiful. 

yesterday I read this.....
"the universe is not one of independent things, but rather one of process, a changing, flowing, evolving, and intimately interconnected system of interactions."

that makes me happy. 

so to the question, what would I do, how would my life be different, if I were enlightened.....?     I just don't know. 

but I'll tell you that today, with my current level of enlightenment, I'm going to keep asking myself if my actions, before and after I take them, are really in line with my deepest values and if my words, before or after I speak them are a) true, b) kind and c) necessary.  that's what I'm going to do today. 

oh -- and I'm going to find out where to get some raspberry plants to plant up against the northern fence in our yard.  my neighbor said that her raspberries are in heaven in our neighborhood.  and I'm going to get the cat a collar with bells on it, or make one, so she can't catch the birds who come to eat the raspberries.  I feel like those are pretty enlightened/enlightening things to do.  :-) 

I fell asleep last night while reading "A Chorus of Stones" by Susan Griffin.  I was tired when I began reading the book and I kept closing my eyes and falling asleep, but I really, really wanted to finish reading it, so I kept opening my eyes and struggling to read a few more pages.  Sleep finally won me over on page 189.  I slept long and deeply and this morning I awakened from an intense dream.  It seemed important that I capture something of the dream.  I went to my computer and typed this......     then I went about my morning and have just opened my computer to find this waiting for me.  I am a little startled. 


awakening........

oh ana,  ana,  ana,  ana

the grownups from that heavier day use that model still

she is living there
in the shattered buildings
caring for an infant, not her own
who ====

a girl child who she calls "my light"

she comes to see me, unexpectedly
after I've just read the book

just been there
just been in captivity
just fallen in love with, with the man who is struggling against the oppression and winning

hiding in an underground lair
like children playing hide and seek
but a deadly consequence awaits us if we are found out

she comes to see me
she asks how it was

she wants to know what chemicals are used to make the bombs
I am confused.  what chemicals?  bombs?

we are insurrectionaries who wish to rebuild the networks of atoms, of people, of society, of dna, of rna

it is love and beauty that rebuild, that hold the ties

it is a sort of order, but it is organic

I give her my money
my book
my story of love

i watch her go away

to build her society of poets

my heart goes with her

thanks to tara for linking from a comment bb's blog to a playlist on youtube which included this….

katie melua, 9 million bicycles in beijing.



I did a little google research to see if there are really that many bicycles in Beijing and the result is inconlusive, but here's an interesting article discussing bicycles, bicyclists in Holland and in Beijing..... 
From Beijing This Month, 11/01/2001

What would you most like to know about someone close to you?  If you could learn one thing, or have one question answered, about someone you love, be it your mother, spouse, child, or dear friend, what would it be?

I've been letting these questions roll around in my head for the past 4 hours and I still don't have an answer.  it's not that I'm not curious about my loved ones, it's just that I've already learned about them through interaction over time and whenever I have a question, I simply ask them right away, so I haven't saved up a something I'd most like to know about someone close to me. 

For 2009 I resolved to have a date once a month with my niece, my nephew, my sister, my son and my mom, each.  and all of them live an hour or more from where I live, not in the same towns, and of course all with their own busy schedules.  I'm happy to report that so far this year, I have accomplished that goal.  I learn about my loved ones best through time spent together interacting with one another. 

Adam & I have recently started playing a game.  Each night before we go to sleep or when we wake up in the morning we take turns telling each other something that we feel gratitude about.  I think we learn a lot about each other this way and also it's fun.  

I want to know whatever my loved ones want to share with me.  It's not some burning question, it's more of an ongoing interest in the whole person. 

Who or what do you give authority to? 

What do you tend to give power to in your life? Where do you place authority? Who or what do you tend to see as having control over, or influencing, your choices? What would it be like if you reclaimed this authority?

I think I have seldom given my power to anyone else in my life and whenever I did, it was a mistake.  I sometimes defer to another's wisdom, by listening and considering their perspective.  I often get aha moments while listening to another person or observing.  but I don't subscribe to letting anyone else make my decisions for me.  I think my life would be just exactly as it is if I reclaimed my authority, because I already claim my own authority (and hence responsibility) each day. 

many, many things and people and places and circumstances influence my choices.  but I make my own final decisions and take responsibility for them and that has made all the difference in my life. 

the pic is from just about 2 hours ago after our first longish bike ride of the year.  yay for spring!! 

What if we saw the universe as a living thing?  How would our lives be different if we saw ourselves as being a part of a conscious, living cosmos?

I love this question because I already see the universe as a conscious, living, wondrous process and I already see myself as being a part of it all.  I choose to see it this way because it makes me happy to see it this way and thinking of it as a dead thing just doesn't make any sense to me and hearing it as only dead silences isn't hearing it at all to me, so......

universe = one song

makes me wanna dance!   

here are some potential proofs for my wobbly fantastic hypothosis: 


























I rest my case.  for now.

all photos are from this past week.   photo credits, all are by dawn, except the country western bar ones, those were taken by adam saturday night as we listened to our friend brian play some mean guitar licks and sang a hearty "happy trails" to a long time friend and co-worker who will be in tanzania for 3 months this summer, volunteering, with her entire family of 5.  and though I don't have those photos yet, they will be universe as becoming fundamentally better minute by minute:  exhibit generosity, meaning and pleasure all rolled into one.  :-)

I am ever so grateful to be so completely surrounded by amazing, wonderful, wild, alive, authentic people and to live in such a breathtaking world.


ps:  I had an opportunity to make an exhibit for compassion today.  I passed it by.  If the below paragraph could be captured in a photograph, it would be here as universe in blue:  exhibit heart ache.

I saw a girl standing at an intersection, maybe she was close to 20 years old.  she had a sign that read, "homeless and pregnant, please help."  I was expected at an appointment, soon.  my heart jumped, ached, screamed at me to stop and help.  my mind went numb and confused.  I averted my eyes.  I realized I had no cash in the car.  i thought, "$20 wouldn't really help that much anyway."  I told myself that was just a self comforting lie.  I promised myself I would go back to that intersection after taking care of my previous commitment, which was a date with my son, to take him to do his driver's test.  I didn't want to make him late for his appointment.  I take my commitments seriously.  it's important to me to show my love in a tangible way by showing up.  I knew my son would understand if I was late for this reason, he's a compassionate kid.  I thought I would research places that could help.  I don't live in the town where I was today.  I don't know exactly what helping hands are available.  i was young and confused and felt alone and overwhelmed when I was pregnant with jordan.  I wanted to stop and talk to that girl and tell her how my life is different now, how I got here.  I wanted to stop and buy her lunch, a cup of tea, take her to the united way or over to social services, help her sort out her options.  I wanted to be a force for peace and love in the world in a real way.  but I didn't stop.  the girl wasn't at the intersection when i finally got back to it.  I don't know what will become of her.  i will make a small donation to a place in that town that can help, maybe another girl, maybe that same girl.  i will say a prayer for her.  I will wish her well.  I will think of her and sing the longtime sun song.....

may the longtime sun shine upon you
all love surround you
and the pure light within you
guide your way on

and maybe I'll stop next time.  I feel so much that I missed a rare opportunity to really make a difference.  how much more clear can an opportunity to help be than a sign that says, "please help" put right in one's path.  I feel regret right now.  Regret that I didn't stop just for 5 minutes.  that I didn't help in a tangible way when I had the opportunity.  that I didn't share a moment and a story of how I was a young woman who found out I was pregnant and had no place to live all on the same day and how I survived and learned to thrive.  I'm sorry, young woman, that I averted my eyes and went on my way.  I wish you every happiness.  My heart goes out to you.   And I hope this knowledge somehow reaches you, that while maybe not everything happens for the best, it's still best to look for the best in, to make the best of, everything that happens. 

I hope the universe did find some other thread of the big tapestry, some other line of the great one song, to weave into her life, to answer her cry for help. 

What message does your highest self have for you right now? What might you need to remember?

I had a dream last night in which everything was moving way too fast.  I couldn't keep up.  Every next second was such a shock.  I hadn't even processed the shock that had happened a second ago and I was being exposed to the next shocking event.  I can't even remember all the shocks.  I do remember being in the basement of a monstrously large house and finding a shocking note from someone and opening a cupboard into a shockingly huge cavern filled with stalagmites and stalagtites and being shocked to find it.  then going to some kind of meeting where shocking news was revealed, having to rush off to get to the underground lake with adam and jordan, adam rushing me onto a bus, being shocked to be leaving jordan behind, being upset about it, being shocked then to see jordan through the bus window, keeping pace with the bus on his longboard.  then, getting off the bus and searching for jordan, having a groupf of kids yelling for me, hurry, hurry he's over here.  he's hurt.  them bringing him to where I was, him unconscious, worrying, calling 911, being shocked again when I am unable to get through to 911, no help is coming, no ambulance because of my inability to properly dial 911. 

this is a recurring theme in my dreams since I started answering 911 fourteen years ago-- not being able to get ahold of 911 if I need to.  I'm not sure why I dream dreams in which I need to call 911 and get help, an ambulance or a police officer, and then am not able to get through to them.  I don't have any conscious fear of that happening.  I trust my co-workers to do their jobs well and the infrastructure is currently very well maintained.   I read somewhere that everyone in your dreams represents some aspect of yourself and I like to think about dreams in this way.  If I'm thinking of the dream I had last night this way, then it would seem to me that my subconscious is trying to talk to me about having abandoned some part of myself and hurting myself in the process.  now, awake, I can't imagine what part of me is feeling abandoned, though. 

yesterday, during my lunch hour, I went across the courtyard to the library.   I put on my headphones and let the rain of a holosync recording fill my ears while I sat with a gorgeous book open on my lap, The Trouble with the Alphabet.  I had the book open to the page about Tibet and I closed my eyes to let my mind wander and wander.  When I opened my eyes again, about 45 minutes later, I wrote some ideas in my notebook about gratitude letters and donations in honor of the letter recipients.  Perhaps the part of me who thought she would join the Peace Corp feels abandoned?  Maybe it's the me who, at age 12, in eighth grade civics class, declared that she would be the first female president of the united states, if no one else had done it by the time she turned 35?  Or maybe the me who wanted to be a famous singer feels abandoned?  or the me who expected to graduate at the top of her class from some prestigious college but who still has not graduated from any college at all?   

but no, I don't think those me's have been abandoned.  those were the dreamer in me.  and she's still there.  and she still sings-- more and more she bursts into song for no apparent reason and without regard to the audience, work, home, sidewalks, mountain tops.  :-)  she's still a politically active leader in her community.  she still cares about the world and all it's peoples.  she's still fascinated by so much and she will be a lifelong learner.  she loves the word autodidact.  she's still so young, growing and learning every day.  I don't think she feels abandoned because I do nurture her and encourage her and feed her.   

this morning, on the way to work, I was driving because there is no bus that can get me to work on time on sunday mornings during the off season and I wasn't up for biking to work because we are under a winter storm warning (it's started snowing as I type this) and although I probably could bike in the snow, I simply don't want to.  so I was driving and thinking about this same thing I've been thinking about all week everytime I am outside or looking out a window -- that the glorious sky is the most amazing painting ever, changing moment to moment.  I was looking up at the sky and looking around to where the sky meets the earth and thinking how where I live and work is such a stunningly beautiful frame for this masterpiece of a painting, the living sky, and remember, I was driving,   there are very, very few cars on the road when I come to work early on sunday mornings and I know the route so well after all these years that I could probably drive it in my sleep, but still, it's best to remember that you are driving.........   as I was gazing at the sky and having my little daydream about famous painters and photographers and skies, I arrived at the place where elk often cross the highway and two vehicles in front of me had slowed way down to avoid some elk.  my daydreaming, sky appreciating eyes came back to focus on the road in front of my car just in the nick of time.  a shocked and startled me, braked and avoided a collision, barely. 

perhaps my higher self would like me to remember that I am in the driver's seat of my life?  (and my car?)

I don't know.  I'm just letting my mind wander all over the place again.  I keep getting distracted from this typing by the antics of the snowflakes outside the window.  even though it's spring, and I'm ready to plant the garden and ride my bike, I find the snowflakes no less charming than I did when they first arrived last fall. 

I think my highest self doesn't mind if I daydream and play and enjoy whatever amazing beauty the world has to offer me, minute by minute, and I think my highest self also wants me to remember to be a good driver and to follow my heart's path, even if that path is as seemingly random as the dance of a snowflake in erratic winds followed by moments of sudden calm. 

[I know I'm way behind on the 30 days, 30 answers to QaR's thing.  I'll blame it on the erratic winds of my life.  right this minute is the first sudden calm that found me near a computer in the past few days. -- oh!!  if only I had a the ability to record the motion of those snowflakes falling, I'd share it with you all.  :-) ]

This week's "genius questions" come from Gay Hendricks, who poses them (among many others!) in his just-published book The Big Leap: How To Conquer Your Fear and Take Your Life to the Next Level.

What do you love so much you can do it for long stretches of time without getting tired or bored?)


Adam (my husband) 's answer, for me, to this question are these:

1) blogging
2) sleeping
3) blogging in your sleep

he just told me that after I read hiim today's question out loud.  (he's headed to bed and expects that I won't be there soon and he's mildly annoyed by that fact.)

My son (Jordan) 's answer, for me, to this question, though he's not here to actually ask, would be:

1) reading
2) watching incredibly depressing movies (documentaries or other true stories - blood diamond , hotel rwanda, tibet - the cry of the snow lion, born into brothels, milk) and / or comediens that are really depressing if you think about the fact that what they are being ironic/funny about is really depressing (daily show, colbert, carlin)
3) subjecting other people to incredibly depressing stories via reading out loud to them or making them watch documentaries.  (book - the trouble with the alphabet, see movies above)


I can't tell you what anyone else would answer on my behalf, but I think most of you who've read this blog before already know what I would answer for myself:

in no particular order:

*pondering / wondering  (neuroscience is a big fascination lately)
*laughing - a kind of happy laugh, not the mean kind so much.
*trying to levitate (haven't proved that it's possible scientifically yet, but why not keep practicing? trying?)
*playing with children
*talking with / listening to children
*talking with/listening to grown ups too (the grown ups that don't take themselves too entirely seriously are my faves)
*reading, everything
*watching documentaries
*volunteering, for trails or good causes of any kind
*meditating
* blogging (yes, it's true) and reading friends' blogs (there's reading again.   :-)
*arguing (civilly of course, and mostly with an ear to whether or no I can learn something)
*playing word games
*photographing
*watching comedy movies
*watching documentary movies (even though they make me cry, they help me see better, maybe that's why I can see better?--do my tears cleanse my vision if I let them?)
making boxes or writing letters
*singing silly made up songs
*listening to all kinds, really, all kinds of music, but I'm especially partial to folksy, sweet stuff and classical lately, but seriously, everything musical
*reading or making up poetry (ooops I said reading already)
*learning useful and / or beautiful things (I think they are one and the same in many cases)
*going swimming at the hot springs with kaysha &/or kalon
*doing yoga
*hiking
*biking
*cross country skiing
*taking baths
*showering
*s     -     e     -     x     with adam.  ;-)
*celebrating the sucesses and joys of loved ones

and lately, I've even begun to realize that I enjoy:
doing laundry
washing dishes
organizing papers
paying bills
going to work
waiting for the bus
tidying up the yard/house/my locker at work
this thing I've just learned called eft (tapping), I do like it, but don't have much to say about it definitively yet - that's human nature -- just ask Jonah Lehrer. 

weird, huh?  ;-)  (wink, nudge, know-what-I-mean?)


but what I think I really, really love the mostest is to feel like I am making a difference, that I matter, that I am necessary and good and worthwhile and beautiful, inside and out.


and siona and my mom.......   wow!   thanks.  (you know what for I think.)  perfect timing.  I needed that, actually.  and you too!   xoxo   ~d