Big Sur

Returning from the paradise that is Big Sur.   It was a dream of mine to visit and a dream to stay at Ventana.   Both came true and were beyond expectation!    Magical.....

On soft Spring nights I'll stand in the yard under the stars - Something good will come out of all things yet - And it will be golden and eternal just like that - There's no need to say another word. - Jack Kerouac, Big Sur

Done!

In the beginning of 2018, I set "intention" as my word.  I wanted to live the year purposefully.   A lack of planning and dedicated focus is a bad habit I slip into and I wanted to improve.  My first goal was to begin building a true career - something I could be proud of and something that felt in line with my self-worth.   In April, I received an important promotion and in October another.  I am proud.  I have worked hard, managed my emotions, people pleased while having firm limits and achieved it.   The promotion was the beginning of the work.  I have the title, very much a hard part of the climb, but now I must contribute and deliver.

To help me do so, I enrolled in a Strategic HR Management course through Cornell.  It was my first formal learning experience in over 15 years and I was challenged.  I took 6 modules and completed probably 100 pages of writing and yesterday I finished!  Again, I am proud.  I am doing it.  I can do hard things. 

This post isn't to boast, but rather to record, for my own future reference, what I can do with a keen focus and concentration.  There's a difference between doing it and talking about it.   I'm doing it.  Onward.

Together

When J was a baby, I was part of a newborn mother's group.   We met once a week and discussed the mundane challenges of our new lives - nursing, lack of sleep, washing bottles, pros and cons of the Snap n Go and Rock N play.  We were exhausted, in love, elated and scared to death as we held these perfect little bundles of life.

One afternoon someone remarked that every day felt the same.  It was winter in Boston and cabin fever and sleep deprivation were setting in.   Another remarked - "although it feels the same, it is not.  We are on a long walk with these children and though we may not always feel like we're making forward progress, time is passing, we are doing it, and every day is another step forward." I needed to hear that then and some days I still do.

A lot has changed since that afternoon.  I am a single mom.  We moved and moved again.  We found a new school, new friends and neighbors, I am working very hard at building a career I am proud of and at the same time - raising you: my truest joy, my biggest challenge.  The love of my life. 

I was introduced to hiking earlier this year and have grown to enjoy it.  I like the peacefulness of nature.  The sense of accomplishment, the scenery, the healthiness of the hobby.   I've tried to slowly introduce you, J, as well.  I dream of it being something we can do together.  At age 5, 15, 25....  I dream of walking with you in foreign, beautiful places.  I hope you will tell me as we walk about a love that you found, a problem you are facing, or an adventure you seek.   I hope I continue to be strong and that my experiences, both painful and joyous, can teach you something.

Over the weekend, we got you your first pair of hiking shoes.  You wore them proudly and well.   We did our first "peak" and you made it to the top of Wright Tower.   I was reminded of my friend's story.  I remembered you swaddled as I listened.  You were so perfect I couldn't believe you were my boy.  Six years later, you walked to the top.  Yes, you stopped to play with lots of sticks.  We looked at the tree stump that had fallen.  You crunched the leaves.  Today you are a boy, filled with curiosity and goodness. Despite our slow and winding pace, we arrived to the top. We continue our journey.  Nothing is today as it was yesterday and before long you won't stop to look at the sticks, you will  walk faster than me.  I will enjoy these days.  As precious and fleeting as the others. 

My wish for you today. "May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.  May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." - Edward Abbey.

Catching up - fall 2018

I'll try to get caught up here since it's been awhile!   Kindergarten is off to a great start - you are doing so well as you begin your official school career!   Writing all of your numbers and letters with no issues.  Your teachers tell me that you are nice to everyone and always a happy boy --- it is no surprise but still warms my heart to hear.   You tell me about your friends, play legos and battleship at afterschool, and your favorite day is still Monday, when Grammy picks you up! 

We had a fun Halloween - you dressed as The Hulk, did pumpkin carving at Nolan's, had a few parties and we Trick or Treated on Dudley St with our neighbor friends and mom and dad.   I still feel overwhelmed by how much I can love your little soul.  My baby boy, growing, but forever mama's angel. 

Ready to start Kindergarten!

Ice cream in Davis Sq with your friend Shuvam

Doing so well! :)

Halloween party with your good friend, Claire! 

Proud!

With our friends at Linea

My love <3

Grammy's birthday

We returned from 5 fun filled days with your cousins in New Jersey to celebrate Grammy's birthday.  I love to watch you with your cousins and see the bond that naturally exists between the six of you.  Andrew insisted that you do a "sleepover" in his room - he read you a story before bed and he slept in a sleeping bag on the floor next to you.   Charlotte and you played pretend for hours.  And you fit right in with Penny and Luke and whatever tricks they're up to.   You were such a good boy and so happy all weekend. 

Family dynamics are challenging but we make the most of the one we've been given.   Nobody, including me and you, are perfect but we are accept, honor our boundaries, embrace the craziness and move forward.  Life's too short for anything but love. 

From my desk

My picture from British Columbia sits on my desk.  I love it.  I hope I never forget how it felt to be on that trip - Peaceful. Aligned. Content. Free. Me.

The fresh air of the gigantic trees, the constant rushing sound of the river, relieved of meeting anyone's needs but my own. 

“Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.”  - Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Why I Write - Aug 4 2018

In 2011, I started this space.  My mind, for as long as I can remember, has been an overthinking machine.  Its fast association of facts and quick, sometimes accurate, sometimes not, conclusions can make me struggle.   I am driven toward improvement, slightly discontent with the status quo and willing to process emotional pain for the tradeoffs of momentary highs.  

Like my favorite author, Anthony Bourdain, has said - "Maybe that's enlightenment enough, to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity, perhaps wisdom is realizing how small I am and unwise and how far I have yet to go."   So, here I am.  Going.  I say things with less certainty than I did when I was younger.  I actually just say less (on this blog).  This space has morphed into more of my own collection of other people's words.  I think that's because I haven't known what to say and have been worried about the permanence of my words on this page.  But I will try to flush it out a bit more here, recognizing that it will change, it is temporary but today it's all I've got.  And when I look back on reflections I wrote when I was married (happy reflections), I don't cringe even though I'm now divorced.  In fact, I'm glad they are there.  I was happy.  We were happy!  Until we weren't.  It wasn't untrue.  Nothing has been untrue, even if it changes.  

So, why do I write.  This blog has been a steady friend.  It's the only word that I can use to describe it.  It explains why my posting is sometimes erratic, like any friend, it has a time and a place.  Sometimes more, sometimes less.  But it has been here for me.  Receiving whatever it is that I've needed to give and sometimes, many times, offering me an answer.  I haven't overdone it.  I never wanted it to have an unauthentic tone.  Its my space with no deadline and no "point".   I don't edit it, I don't overthink anything.  It's a scratchpad, raw, here, ME in this medium. 

One day J will read it.  My hope is it helps him understand his mother.  Flawed but trying.  Always, always trying.  

I'm setting out on a new chapter.  One without someone who meant something to me but who's time and place has shifted out of sync with mine.  This is part of the journey of life.   The excitement, when we allow ourselves to see it that way, is the fresh page.   Everything changes you if you're willing to let it.  You take something.  You leave something behind.  You are never the same.  You are different.  You are better.  

When I was in British Columbia, I kept thinking of Mary Oliver's poem, Wild Geese.  It played in my mind like a prayer.  It was my teacher.  The summary of the lesson -- that I don't have to be anything but me.  Finding forgiveness for my mistakes, shortcomings, quirkiness.  Seeking strength to always strive to be better.... and learning to love myself in the same unconditional way that I manage to love others. 

Today it's Blackwater Woods that echos in my bones.  A new prayer: equally beautiful, equally critical.  These words will walk with me into the next dark room.  I go there full of faith and in anticipation of the magic it undoubtedly will offer.  

Look, the trees

are turning

their own bodies

into pillars

of light,

are giving off the rich

fragrance of cinnamon

and fulfillment,

the long tapers

of cattails

are bursting and floating away over

the blue shoulders

of the ponds,

and every pond,

no matter what its

name is, is

nameless now.

Every year

everything

I have ever learned

in my lifetime

leads back to this: the fires

and the black river of loss

whose other side

is salvation,

whose meaning

none of us will ever know.

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.