I enter the gym through the cafeteria. The scent of overcooked fills the air and I realize how hungry I am. I broke my own rule -- always eat before any kind of business or school function.
It's cool outside still and so inside it's stuffy, with the heater being turned on for tonight's event. I immediately smell the familar scent of school, some heady mix of disinfenctant, potato mix, sweat. Do all schools smell the same? And does every school have the same colors of flat, cool blue and medical green? Does some state regent require that all schools smell, look and feel the same?
Or is it just so easy to be transported back to the days of high school?
We find friends and sit at long tables, scrimping into the crowded rows, trying hard not to step on anyone's legs. We make small talk -- where we went today, where are the other kids - stuff that is pleasing, easy to discuss, safe.
Our school is proud of its music program with good reason. Awards, trips, acclaim are part of this school's musical legacy.
I'm one of the flunkie moms. I don't show up for sewing duty, I don't park cars during ball games, I don't stay late to put up chairs after such event. All I do is cheer for my kid and take pictures of he and his friends. I am very proud.
I watch as our community of friends mingle. We're all over tired, stressed during this "year end" festival of activities. Once I read that families are more time-strapped and money -strapped during May than even during December. I believe it. With pictures, school events, clothes and tickets, May is deadly for budgets. We spend it easily and gladly, like all the families here.
I see realtors, bankers, community counselors, teachers. I see people that I've spoken to for almost five years, but couldn't tell you their name. But I could tell you most everything else about them..we've sat in the equivalent of church in this sport-obsessed town -- basketball games, football halftimes. We don't pray together, but we've cried as our kids have lost tournaments and cheered when the last goal was scored. It's as much a family as any church and this gym is our cathedral.
This is a big event for our town so the kids are wearing fancy clothes. Boys are overdressed, underconfident, gangly and lean. Girls have their hair up, nail polish sparkles, spiky shoes are worn with pain. It's a dress rehearsal for other things coming, all too soon.
The line for the food is too long, my stomch is churning. The drinks are watery, the rolls cold. The speeches too long and I can't hear. I watch the video screen for glimpses of my kid and my friends. I watch and I wait. I know what is coming.
This time next year, my son will be graduating and this will be a ritual we repeat for memories of his senior year. We get ready to leave and I ask for a picture of his and his friends. They roll their eyes, eager to get on out with friends. They are patient, I snap a few shots.
As I do, the other families of the other boys appear at my side. The boys rush by to be with each other and girlfriends, grab a coke, enjoy the early night. We stand watching them go. We look past each other, try to talk but we all know, there is no getting around it.
We are fast becoming part of their past, part of what they may remember as they sit in dorm rooms, plan their lives, live their dreams. We are falling away like the first petals on a bloom...once there to give it structure, then dropping to make way for the showier parts.
We say good-night, we say we'll share the pictures, let's get together soon.
We hang on to each other, trying hard to let them go.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Gardener's Journal: Fall plans
I'm considering a meadow in my back yard.
Driving to Dallas I often see wildflowers brilliantly displayed along the highway that the Wildlife Society (or someone) has created.
I checked out some web sites (http://www.earthvalues.com/wgg/wgg_04_meadow.php) that detail how easy it is to do this.
Driving to Dallas I often see wildflowers brilliantly displayed along the highway that the Wildlife Society (or someone) has created.
I checked out some web sites (http://www.earthvalues.com/wgg/wgg_04_meadow.php) that detail how easy it is to do this.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Gardner's Journal: Completing Spring Planting
I planted the last of the day lillies today. I also tried some new salvia, a red version that I really like. I'm finished planting for now (really, I am!).
As I was watering this morning I thought back to my first stabs at gardening in other locations. I had this one large book that talked about how to plant annuals and perennials and I remember studying that and studying that book, thinking, "how will I ever learn this?" It all seemed very organized and logical and it was if I had stumbled upon a magic code that had been left by some unknown tribe.
Even then, gardening called to me, but I couldn't hear its voice.
I was busy having children, moving, trying to establish an adult life. I wonder at times, if I had heeded that call how things might be different.
Now almost 18 years later, I look at my garden and I realize it is still a hodge podge of attempts, there isn't any real logic to it. I plant by my "gut". I plant what I like. If a plant doesn't work, out it goes. I don't have a lot of time for high maintainance plants.
But most plants will thrive if their conditions are right. So it is less about the plant being high maintainance than it is about the soil being worked.
I wonder, isn't that the same as people?
Aren't most of us ok in the right environment? Aren't we all happier when we are well watered, wall fed and not getting too much sun?
I think about learning how to put colors together in a pleasing way. This is the subjective part of gardening, I think. What pleases me may not please you at all. It has taken me a long while to not plant with abandon, just planting and filling gaps. Now there is more thought but still a sense of whimsy and ambiguity.
For example, today I stumbled upon some kind of mystery plant -- it must be a form of a delphinium but I can't remember what it is. It's beautiful, light lilac on strong green stems. About 24 inches tall it stands there in an awkard space, really, looking like an overdressed teenager at a dance. It's gangly and tall and out of sorts.
But beautiful it its own way. If I had more of them it would fill in nicely, but I can't remember where I got or what its name is.
There are some constants in my garden -- lots of yellow with plenty of purple to soften the blow. Too much yellow is like living with one of those perennial happy people who like to get up at 5 am shouting, "Good morning merry sunshine". It's a nice thought, but kinda gives you a headache after awhile.
So I'm trying to fill in with some reds -- salvia, yarrow and begonia. I like the way yellow and red play off each other.
As my garden fulfills this years hopes I think about learning new things. I see a lot of similarity in my learning spanish and gardening. Both are things I never thought I'd do. Both are things that I'm really good at when I give myself over to them. Both are things that require a certain patience and plodding.
So, for now, the spring garden is simply to be enjoyed. There are a few things that I'll work on through the hot summer months, but the real "work" in the garden is done. There is the weeding, the watering, of course.
And there's always the dreaming...of what next garden will be tackled. I have three spots selected and have already put together some ideas, taken some pics of their "before" shots. I know I'll use more fountains and water. Funny thing, I had thought that we'd have a swimming pool by now, but the fountains in the yard are really cooling in a different way. So though we don't have the "dive in" pool (yet!) we do have the same sense of a cooling space.
This afternoon, I'm treating myself to a mother's day nap with my cat with a great book and a tall glass of iced team.
As I was watering this morning I thought back to my first stabs at gardening in other locations. I had this one large book that talked about how to plant annuals and perennials and I remember studying that and studying that book, thinking, "how will I ever learn this?" It all seemed very organized and logical and it was if I had stumbled upon a magic code that had been left by some unknown tribe.
Even then, gardening called to me, but I couldn't hear its voice.
I was busy having children, moving, trying to establish an adult life. I wonder at times, if I had heeded that call how things might be different.
Now almost 18 years later, I look at my garden and I realize it is still a hodge podge of attempts, there isn't any real logic to it. I plant by my "gut". I plant what I like. If a plant doesn't work, out it goes. I don't have a lot of time for high maintainance plants.
But most plants will thrive if their conditions are right. So it is less about the plant being high maintainance than it is about the soil being worked.
I wonder, isn't that the same as people?
Aren't most of us ok in the right environment? Aren't we all happier when we are well watered, wall fed and not getting too much sun?
I think about learning how to put colors together in a pleasing way. This is the subjective part of gardening, I think. What pleases me may not please you at all. It has taken me a long while to not plant with abandon, just planting and filling gaps. Now there is more thought but still a sense of whimsy and ambiguity.
For example, today I stumbled upon some kind of mystery plant -- it must be a form of a delphinium but I can't remember what it is. It's beautiful, light lilac on strong green stems. About 24 inches tall it stands there in an awkard space, really, looking like an overdressed teenager at a dance. It's gangly and tall and out of sorts.
But beautiful it its own way. If I had more of them it would fill in nicely, but I can't remember where I got or what its name is.
There are some constants in my garden -- lots of yellow with plenty of purple to soften the blow. Too much yellow is like living with one of those perennial happy people who like to get up at 5 am shouting, "Good morning merry sunshine". It's a nice thought, but kinda gives you a headache after awhile.
So I'm trying to fill in with some reds -- salvia, yarrow and begonia. I like the way yellow and red play off each other.
As my garden fulfills this years hopes I think about learning new things. I see a lot of similarity in my learning spanish and gardening. Both are things I never thought I'd do. Both are things that I'm really good at when I give myself over to them. Both are things that require a certain patience and plodding.
So, for now, the spring garden is simply to be enjoyed. There are a few things that I'll work on through the hot summer months, but the real "work" in the garden is done. There is the weeding, the watering, of course.
And there's always the dreaming...of what next garden will be tackled. I have three spots selected and have already put together some ideas, taken some pics of their "before" shots. I know I'll use more fountains and water. Funny thing, I had thought that we'd have a swimming pool by now, but the fountains in the yard are really cooling in a different way. So though we don't have the "dive in" pool (yet!) we do have the same sense of a cooling space.
This afternoon, I'm treating myself to a mother's day nap with my cat with a great book and a tall glass of iced team.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Getting real about Mother's Day
I gotta be really careful in this post. After all, I now know that my madre, my mom, reads my blog.
But I need to get this off my chest and this is MY blog so if you don't like what you read here, I can recommend many others.
And, I'm a Mom, too, and I think we should all unite and form a new movement -- the ANTI MOTHER'S DAY movement.
You know what I mean. I see you in those card shops, looking at those cards, trying to find the "right" one...the one that isn't "too" sappy, and the the one that isn't "too minimalistic."
What will I go with this year -- something simple with a "thinking of you" with my name scrawled inside? Or one that tries a little harder to make it sound like this relationship is what it it isn't?
Like I said, I gotta be careful here.
I think its time we let Mom's off the hook. Let's take them off the podium, give 'em a rest this year.
What Mom doesn't hang her head with guilt in all the things she ISN'T? That she isn't this idyllic image of the madonna and hearts and flowers and cookies and pta and all that stuff -- that really, doesn't seem to matter anyway?
My friend Peg, says we all "marry" our mothers. That is, whatever dysfunction we had in the hard wiring of our relationship with our moms is there in our marriages too. Which kinda explains the 4 out of 5 divorce thing.
I remember when we had our second child...I remember while in the first stages of labor, sitting at my son's bed while he was sleeping and praying that he'd forgive me for not being the kind of mother that he probably deserved to have. I knew then that I was at my "parenting quota" and that having just two kids would probably max me out.
SIDE NOTE - Wouldn't that be cool...getting a call from your "mother's resource card/office...'i'm sorry, ms. traylor, you are currently overextended and need to rethink or review your current reproductive path..." something like that? Now THAT'S a government program I might pay for.
What Peg is getting at is that the issues that we don't resolve in our childhood will inevitably follow us into other relationships. And the work gets harder and harder because the messes usually get bigger and bigger.
So, that's why I'm suggesting that we kick the mother's day thing. Let's get really honest with ourselves and our moms. Let's let people be real -- full of problems, complex and damaged. And let's let it go.
I don't want my kids to put me on a pedestal. Heck, I tell them "I'm sorry" more times than I can count. Right now, they seem rather well adjusted in spite of my foibles and my mistakes. I try really hard to let them see that I don't have all the answers (and by the way DON'T WANT ALL THE ANSWERS) and that they don't have a perfect mom.
If my kids remember me for anything, I hope it is this --
that I never squashed their dreams,
that I did what I could to prepare them for their own lives and that they never,
ever think of me as perfect or as a project that is finished.
My daughter is a better cook and better organized than I am. My son has more talent in his left pinky than I'll ever have and doesn't yet have a clue. My daughter is the most amazing friend to others and is more dedicated to her goals than anyone I've ever seen. They both are good kids and I just hope that, in spite of me, they have a chance at a life that is good.
By "good" I mean that they can face their own problems head on -- and not blame me for them. That they take responsibility for their lives and their mistakes and their own journeys. I hope that they will see me as always willing to listen but not always solve. I hope that they will know that I will always love them though not always agree with them. That they will always have "home" but that it may not always be with me.
That's all I can do. That's all any of us can do.
So save the candy and the cards and let's take a walk in the garden instead. Let me hear you tell me about YOU and all the things in your life.
And pray to God that I keep my mouth shut.
As the character in "Garden State" says to his dad in the final scenes of that really cool movie, "We have to be OK with things not being OK".
Now that's a card worth giving.
But I need to get this off my chest and this is MY blog so if you don't like what you read here, I can recommend many others.
And, I'm a Mom, too, and I think we should all unite and form a new movement -- the ANTI MOTHER'S DAY movement.
You know what I mean. I see you in those card shops, looking at those cards, trying to find the "right" one...the one that isn't "too" sappy, and the the one that isn't "too minimalistic."
What will I go with this year -- something simple with a "thinking of you" with my name scrawled inside? Or one that tries a little harder to make it sound like this relationship is what it it isn't?
Like I said, I gotta be careful here.
I think its time we let Mom's off the hook. Let's take them off the podium, give 'em a rest this year.
What Mom doesn't hang her head with guilt in all the things she ISN'T? That she isn't this idyllic image of the madonna and hearts and flowers and cookies and pta and all that stuff -- that really, doesn't seem to matter anyway?
My friend Peg, says we all "marry" our mothers. That is, whatever dysfunction we had in the hard wiring of our relationship with our moms is there in our marriages too. Which kinda explains the 4 out of 5 divorce thing.
I remember when we had our second child...I remember while in the first stages of labor, sitting at my son's bed while he was sleeping and praying that he'd forgive me for not being the kind of mother that he probably deserved to have. I knew then that I was at my "parenting quota" and that having just two kids would probably max me out.
SIDE NOTE - Wouldn't that be cool...getting a call from your "mother's resource card/office...'i'm sorry, ms. traylor, you are currently overextended and need to rethink or review your current reproductive path..." something like that? Now THAT'S a government program I might pay for.
What Peg is getting at is that the issues that we don't resolve in our childhood will inevitably follow us into other relationships. And the work gets harder and harder because the messes usually get bigger and bigger.
So, that's why I'm suggesting that we kick the mother's day thing. Let's get really honest with ourselves and our moms. Let's let people be real -- full of problems, complex and damaged. And let's let it go.
I don't want my kids to put me on a pedestal. Heck, I tell them "I'm sorry" more times than I can count. Right now, they seem rather well adjusted in spite of my foibles and my mistakes. I try really hard to let them see that I don't have all the answers (and by the way DON'T WANT ALL THE ANSWERS) and that they don't have a perfect mom.
If my kids remember me for anything, I hope it is this --
that I never squashed their dreams,
that I did what I could to prepare them for their own lives and that they never,
ever think of me as perfect or as a project that is finished.
My daughter is a better cook and better organized than I am. My son has more talent in his left pinky than I'll ever have and doesn't yet have a clue. My daughter is the most amazing friend to others and is more dedicated to her goals than anyone I've ever seen. They both are good kids and I just hope that, in spite of me, they have a chance at a life that is good.
By "good" I mean that they can face their own problems head on -- and not blame me for them. That they take responsibility for their lives and their mistakes and their own journeys. I hope that they will see me as always willing to listen but not always solve. I hope that they will know that I will always love them though not always agree with them. That they will always have "home" but that it may not always be with me.
That's all I can do. That's all any of us can do.
So save the candy and the cards and let's take a walk in the garden instead. Let me hear you tell me about YOU and all the things in your life.
And pray to God that I keep my mouth shut.
As the character in "Garden State" says to his dad in the final scenes of that really cool movie, "We have to be OK with things not being OK".
Now that's a card worth giving.
This is the "interior" of my garden...where it all started, so the plants are more mature and "full". In the back you can see the coreopsis and towards the center, near the tree, you can see the columbine...and just to the left are the KNOCK OUTS, the roses that look like, to me, that a lady smeared bright red lipstick all over her face. In the front of this pic are the "Wild Spice" roses that bloom first and longest in my garden.
Cinco de mayo
In celebration of this hispanic holiday, I'm trying out more of my new found phrases. Hopefully I won't offend too many of my spanish speaking friends. Hopefully, I won't parade into my favorite watering hole and say "I want a BIG MAN" instead of saying, instead, "Wow, I'm really hungry". (Both phrases get you kinda noticed, but my friends at Mexico Lindo still laugh at me when I come in after blowing THAT spanish twist.) By the way, Mexico Lindo has the best nachos in the whole world...mexico or Oklahoma or wherever!!!
Learning a new language is like putting on a new outfit. You become something different, someone new. You also realize how impoverished your native tongue might be. I find that new words in a new language open me up to new kinds of meanings and nuances.
And you realize perhaps how small your own world is and how limited you might be if you stay there.
This is true for me in more than just learning spanish. Recently, I have had the opportunity to meet some new friends on-line which has been an introduction to a whole new world of literary smarts. People that are way way way more talented and more intelligent than I and I sit back and I read their stuff and just go, "wow". I have so much to learn! These are people that are publishing books, talking about books..it all seems like a big new world to me. A world that I want to learn more about, inhabit and learn to speak in that "language".
More later..
Learning a new language is like putting on a new outfit. You become something different, someone new. You also realize how impoverished your native tongue might be. I find that new words in a new language open me up to new kinds of meanings and nuances.
And you realize perhaps how small your own world is and how limited you might be if you stay there.
This is true for me in more than just learning spanish. Recently, I have had the opportunity to meet some new friends on-line which has been an introduction to a whole new world of literary smarts. People that are way way way more talented and more intelligent than I and I sit back and I read their stuff and just go, "wow". I have so much to learn! These are people that are publishing books, talking about books..it all seems like a big new world to me. A world that I want to learn more about, inhabit and learn to speak in that "language".
More later..
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Books on Laptop
I'm listening to a radio show on my laptop. Think about that for a minute...the radio through my laptop. It almost seems like voodoo.
I'm listening to "Word by Word" on krcb 91 (www.krcb.org) , click "listen now" with host Jorden Rosenfeld. One of my favorite authors, Sue Miller, is being interviewed on a new book that she has written. This radio show is about books and the people that write them and I find it fascinating.
I don't know where my affinity for books began. I do remember reading all the time to avoid working or doing chores etc. I would read to go to sleep, just like I do now, but I would read all the time.
My favorite books are novels about people that are terribly flawed and terribly real. I also like plots that are redeeming in some way and characters that are complex -- not all good and not all bad.
I want to be a writer some day and write books that are like the ones that I enjoy.
I'm listening to "Word by Word" on krcb 91 (www.krcb.org) , click "listen now" with host Jorden Rosenfeld. One of my favorite authors, Sue Miller, is being interviewed on a new book that she has written. This radio show is about books and the people that write them and I find it fascinating.
I don't know where my affinity for books began. I do remember reading all the time to avoid working or doing chores etc. I would read to go to sleep, just like I do now, but I would read all the time.
My favorite books are novels about people that are terribly flawed and terribly real. I also like plots that are redeeming in some way and characters that are complex -- not all good and not all bad.
I want to be a writer some day and write books that are like the ones that I enjoy.
Gardner's Journal: Taking a breath
It's still very cool -- too cool for my liking. Once the sun goes down a distinct chill fills the air.
Most of my plans for spring have come to fruition, although there is still work to be done on the new pond. Nathan has promised me that he will build a bridge between the two, uniting them into one. He is so good with his hands and has a great "vision" for things. He is considering going into architecture when he attends college, which I believe will be a good fit for him.
It's time now to take a quick breather, rest a bit and see what kind of maintainance is in store until fall planting. Now is the time to enjoy the work that was done in the rainy cool days of spring.
I noticed yesterday that "new dawn" my huge climber of the arch into the perennial garden is starting to pop with color. And that more and more of the roses are coming alive...some for the first time since they were planted a year ago. It's truly a moment to -- do I dare say it -- "stop and smell the roses.."
And as with the garden so it is with me...kids get out of school in a few days, we're finishing up the last bit of remodel upstairs on the kids bathrooms (finally -- I'll post b and a pics later...amazing work that one!) and I'm winding down a good year, getting ready for a new one.
One the surface it may seem that things are prodding along in a normal fashion, but there is nothing normal going on here.
In reality, Dan and I are restructuring our lives almost completely -- and yes, we are staying abreast of that thing called the "mid life transition"...in almost every area of our lives, there are significant changes -- job, family, church, relationships.
This is where we're suppose to collapse and he take off with a hottie and I hit the road with my writing, living a nomad's life. And I'm sure if we were honest with ourselves and each other we would both admit to some doubts about moving on together. We're so different, we're so opposite, we're so -- at times -- unsuited for one another.
But there's something about this time of life -- a sweet reality that hits you...that has hit me, anyway...that there is just too much invested in one's self, in one's relationship to move on. But its much more than that, too.
There is an anchor that pulls you back, that current that holds you to the one you love despite the stupid arguments and the understanding that your childhood dreams of romance are probably best left in the hands of fairy tales. It is the anchor, I believe, of real love...of a love that cannot be diminished or defined. It's a smooth rocking, a subtle lullaby of life that holds you together.
One of the joys of knowing my husband Dan is his understanding that love isn't control or ownership. He and I understood early on that to survive this thing -- and each other --- we had to, as the song says, "hold on loosely...but don't let go.." Pretty good advice from a rock band, I've found.
We don't do the same things together...we have varied and different interests. He doesn't deman that I watch all of the March Madness series and I don't make him read literary books. He is happy carting kids to every tournament and sports series known to man while he understands that I can't always keep score right.
He lets me have the vision of the remodel but he firmly takes the paint brush out of my hand. He knows it it just cleaner that way -- and he's right.
I think love isn't so much about finding the perfect person. I think it is a lot about adapting to the nuances of being with someone, finding out what they can do and do well and let them do it.
It's not about competition. Or winning. Unless BOTH win...that's really the only way to "do" love.
I'd like to say that our 20 year marriage has been without a lot of fan fare...that we've always agreed, never argued. That, indeed, would be a fairytale.
The truth is we've butted heads more times than I can recall. We've had a lot of doubts, we've often talked about what would happen if we didn't make it around this next time.
And we've looked at the reality of not living together and found that to be a rather futile endeavor. In practical terms, we're both too cheap to split up. And we're a bit lazy, too...a lot of energy going into drawing up papers, getting involved with attorneys.
Am I convinced that he's the only one for me and I for him?. Not a chance.
But I am convinced that the only real love that we have a chance at is the one where you look at the other one with open eyes and say, "I'm staying. For good."
Let me hasten to add that this relationship hasn't been filled with violence or abuse -- for if it had it would be a different story. I've seen that up close and personal and know that sticking around for that ending isn't a good storyline.
I thnk more and more love is not about some romantic view of someone else. It's looking clearly at the foibles and mistakes of yourself and your partner and not drawing up divorce papers but drawing them closer. It's letting go of the dream of perfection and embracing what we are -- human, broken and real.
I think, in my own experience, it's as much a part of accepting oneself and it is the other person. In fact, I think being "in love" is really about seeing yourself in someone and being in "love" with THAT...it has nothing to do, really, with the other person..just your own reflection looking back at you.
In mid-life, that reflection looks a bit more wrinkled, a bit slower, and perhaps a bit heavier. And it is being able to see that part of yourself in another and accepting it.
But what do I know? I'm still a novice at this marriage thing -- only 20 years. Who knows what I will learn in the next 20? I hope much more.
Most of my plans for spring have come to fruition, although there is still work to be done on the new pond. Nathan has promised me that he will build a bridge between the two, uniting them into one. He is so good with his hands and has a great "vision" for things. He is considering going into architecture when he attends college, which I believe will be a good fit for him.
It's time now to take a quick breather, rest a bit and see what kind of maintainance is in store until fall planting. Now is the time to enjoy the work that was done in the rainy cool days of spring.
I noticed yesterday that "new dawn" my huge climber of the arch into the perennial garden is starting to pop with color. And that more and more of the roses are coming alive...some for the first time since they were planted a year ago. It's truly a moment to -- do I dare say it -- "stop and smell the roses.."
And as with the garden so it is with me...kids get out of school in a few days, we're finishing up the last bit of remodel upstairs on the kids bathrooms (finally -- I'll post b and a pics later...amazing work that one!) and I'm winding down a good year, getting ready for a new one.
One the surface it may seem that things are prodding along in a normal fashion, but there is nothing normal going on here.
In reality, Dan and I are restructuring our lives almost completely -- and yes, we are staying abreast of that thing called the "mid life transition"...in almost every area of our lives, there are significant changes -- job, family, church, relationships.
This is where we're suppose to collapse and he take off with a hottie and I hit the road with my writing, living a nomad's life. And I'm sure if we were honest with ourselves and each other we would both admit to some doubts about moving on together. We're so different, we're so opposite, we're so -- at times -- unsuited for one another.
But there's something about this time of life -- a sweet reality that hits you...that has hit me, anyway...that there is just too much invested in one's self, in one's relationship to move on. But its much more than that, too.
There is an anchor that pulls you back, that current that holds you to the one you love despite the stupid arguments and the understanding that your childhood dreams of romance are probably best left in the hands of fairy tales. It is the anchor, I believe, of real love...of a love that cannot be diminished or defined. It's a smooth rocking, a subtle lullaby of life that holds you together.
One of the joys of knowing my husband Dan is his understanding that love isn't control or ownership. He and I understood early on that to survive this thing -- and each other --- we had to, as the song says, "hold on loosely...but don't let go.." Pretty good advice from a rock band, I've found.
We don't do the same things together...we have varied and different interests. He doesn't deman that I watch all of the March Madness series and I don't make him read literary books. He is happy carting kids to every tournament and sports series known to man while he understands that I can't always keep score right.
He lets me have the vision of the remodel but he firmly takes the paint brush out of my hand. He knows it it just cleaner that way -- and he's right.
I think love isn't so much about finding the perfect person. I think it is a lot about adapting to the nuances of being with someone, finding out what they can do and do well and let them do it.
It's not about competition. Or winning. Unless BOTH win...that's really the only way to "do" love.
I'd like to say that our 20 year marriage has been without a lot of fan fare...that we've always agreed, never argued. That, indeed, would be a fairytale.
The truth is we've butted heads more times than I can recall. We've had a lot of doubts, we've often talked about what would happen if we didn't make it around this next time.
And we've looked at the reality of not living together and found that to be a rather futile endeavor. In practical terms, we're both too cheap to split up. And we're a bit lazy, too...a lot of energy going into drawing up papers, getting involved with attorneys.
Am I convinced that he's the only one for me and I for him?. Not a chance.
But I am convinced that the only real love that we have a chance at is the one where you look at the other one with open eyes and say, "I'm staying. For good."
Let me hasten to add that this relationship hasn't been filled with violence or abuse -- for if it had it would be a different story. I've seen that up close and personal and know that sticking around for that ending isn't a good storyline.
I thnk more and more love is not about some romantic view of someone else. It's looking clearly at the foibles and mistakes of yourself and your partner and not drawing up divorce papers but drawing them closer. It's letting go of the dream of perfection and embracing what we are -- human, broken and real.
I think, in my own experience, it's as much a part of accepting oneself and it is the other person. In fact, I think being "in love" is really about seeing yourself in someone and being in "love" with THAT...it has nothing to do, really, with the other person..just your own reflection looking back at you.
In mid-life, that reflection looks a bit more wrinkled, a bit slower, and perhaps a bit heavier. And it is being able to see that part of yourself in another and accepting it.
But what do I know? I'm still a novice at this marriage thing -- only 20 years. Who knows what I will learn in the next 20? I hope much more.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
More Mexican salsa
I'm continuing towards my upcoming trips to Mexico. I am in the process of locating suitable lodgings, taking out ads in local newspapers where I will be, getting business cards in spanish.
My "spanish for gringos" cd's are now a regular part of my day..I try to spend at least 20 minutes with them and also in dialogue with other spanish speaking people. Today I ordered my lunch in spanish and did OK. I still get wierd looks from spanish speaking people. Does my redneck heritage shine through in spite of carefully curled r's? I swear, sometimes I can't understand some of the english speaking folks of my fair state...we tend to talk in the farrr baaaack of the mouth, which makes us sound like hicks.
I think one thing that I am very aware of is that I don't want to impose my ways of business upon spanish speaking people. I don't want to be an "ugly american" of which I usually see whenever I travel. In fact, I'm becoming quite an american anti-snob when I travel. It seems that it is painfully obvious to me how we as americans get such an awful reputation among other countries. We get impatient at customs. We get loud when we get impatient. And we just aren't very nice to others who don't always understand our ways.
One thing that I notice is how american always complain...we complain about the food, about the lodgings, about EVERYTHING. It is understandable, we are use to the good life...clean restrooms, clean rooms, good food, hot coffee, ice in our drinks.
I'm not sure having these things has advanced our culture much. It seems that we could be grateful for what we have and realize that going into a new country will mean, well, going into a new country and not having some of the same things that we have in the good ol' USA. In fact, why go to a new country if you are going to shop and dine and do everything just like you would in USA?
It seems to me that we can really cheat ourselves out of the richness of a new country when we stick to the tourist places, when we forget that we are indeed visitors in a country that may have been around longer than our country has. There is so much we don't know and so much we don't even KNOW we don't know...we are the ultimate unconscious incompetents...unaware of how much we lack when we don't embrace other cultures and other people.
My "spanish for gringos" cd's are now a regular part of my day..I try to spend at least 20 minutes with them and also in dialogue with other spanish speaking people. Today I ordered my lunch in spanish and did OK. I still get wierd looks from spanish speaking people. Does my redneck heritage shine through in spite of carefully curled r's? I swear, sometimes I can't understand some of the english speaking folks of my fair state...we tend to talk in the farrr baaaack of the mouth, which makes us sound like hicks.
I think one thing that I am very aware of is that I don't want to impose my ways of business upon spanish speaking people. I don't want to be an "ugly american" of which I usually see whenever I travel. In fact, I'm becoming quite an american anti-snob when I travel. It seems that it is painfully obvious to me how we as americans get such an awful reputation among other countries. We get impatient at customs. We get loud when we get impatient. And we just aren't very nice to others who don't always understand our ways.
One thing that I notice is how american always complain...we complain about the food, about the lodgings, about EVERYTHING. It is understandable, we are use to the good life...clean restrooms, clean rooms, good food, hot coffee, ice in our drinks.
I'm not sure having these things has advanced our culture much. It seems that we could be grateful for what we have and realize that going into a new country will mean, well, going into a new country and not having some of the same things that we have in the good ol' USA. In fact, why go to a new country if you are going to shop and dine and do everything just like you would in USA?
It seems to me that we can really cheat ourselves out of the richness of a new country when we stick to the tourist places, when we forget that we are indeed visitors in a country that may have been around longer than our country has. There is so much we don't know and so much we don't even KNOW we don't know...we are the ultimate unconscious incompetents...unaware of how much we lack when we don't embrace other cultures and other people.
Gardner's Journal: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
It seems to me that I've left out some things about having a garden.
Sure there are the roses and the beauty and all the things that I love about the garden. The sweet smell of wet earth, the water in the ponds, the green in spring.
But there's a whole other side of things that I've haven't talked much about. There's a lot of death, destruction and disease in gardens.
And the weeds! The weeds! The weeds!
My garden is no paradise. I spent a good portion of my weekend work time crouched down, weed tool in hand, fishing for and findng plenty of weeds.
It would be naiive to believe that a garden such as mine -- or any garden for that matter is just one happy place. That nothing dies, nothing loses its color, only good things emerge.
Fact is, my husband has his own little war waging with a family of moles. Each morning he reviews the garden and I'll hear a little "ackkk!" when he sees the new mole hill that has been dug overnight.
This war has been waging for some time and now Dan has recruited others including my son into the battle. Recently, while digging around a new pond that we're putting in, Nathan hit (literally) upon a mole nest. He thought they were cute. Dan saw it as an opportunity to take no captives.
Dan quickly got out his smoke bombs and other paraphenalia and went to work. He commanded Nathan to put the bombs down into the nest and then they hid and watched.
Dan was quite pleased with himself, showing me and others about his recent victory. "Here's where the nest was.." he said, gleaming like a victorious sargent, sure of his win.
Next morning, there were half a dozen more mole hills where the moles retaliated during the black night.
In addition to the moles, there are the black spots that are now filling my roses because the temperatures in April have been unseasonably cool and wet. There are the weeds that sprout as quickly as I can pull them. There are the rose bushes that never bloomed though I followed precise instructions and lovngly planted them.
Life in a garden is like life anywhere- full of disappointments, aches, pains.
Part of being a gardeners is the faith that it requires to keep planting, dreaming, becoming. It's the reality the garden will never realize my desires for it, but yet it can exceed it in many other ways. I didn't realize that the water birch would get so big or that the pergola would be so shady or that the redbud would have such glossy leaves. There are the everyday surprises that border upon the miraculous that keep all gardeners faithful to the task.
There is always more work to do and there are times when I wonder, "is this ever going to be finished" and I know the answer.
No. It will never be completed. Nor should it be.
Sure there are the roses and the beauty and all the things that I love about the garden. The sweet smell of wet earth, the water in the ponds, the green in spring.
But there's a whole other side of things that I've haven't talked much about. There's a lot of death, destruction and disease in gardens.
And the weeds! The weeds! The weeds!
My garden is no paradise. I spent a good portion of my weekend work time crouched down, weed tool in hand, fishing for and findng plenty of weeds.
It would be naiive to believe that a garden such as mine -- or any garden for that matter is just one happy place. That nothing dies, nothing loses its color, only good things emerge.
Fact is, my husband has his own little war waging with a family of moles. Each morning he reviews the garden and I'll hear a little "ackkk!" when he sees the new mole hill that has been dug overnight.
This war has been waging for some time and now Dan has recruited others including my son into the battle. Recently, while digging around a new pond that we're putting in, Nathan hit (literally) upon a mole nest. He thought they were cute. Dan saw it as an opportunity to take no captives.
Dan quickly got out his smoke bombs and other paraphenalia and went to work. He commanded Nathan to put the bombs down into the nest and then they hid and watched.
Dan was quite pleased with himself, showing me and others about his recent victory. "Here's where the nest was.." he said, gleaming like a victorious sargent, sure of his win.
Next morning, there were half a dozen more mole hills where the moles retaliated during the black night.
In addition to the moles, there are the black spots that are now filling my roses because the temperatures in April have been unseasonably cool and wet. There are the weeds that sprout as quickly as I can pull them. There are the rose bushes that never bloomed though I followed precise instructions and lovngly planted them.
Life in a garden is like life anywhere- full of disappointments, aches, pains.
Part of being a gardeners is the faith that it requires to keep planting, dreaming, becoming. It's the reality the garden will never realize my desires for it, but yet it can exceed it in many other ways. I didn't realize that the water birch would get so big or that the pergola would be so shady or that the redbud would have such glossy leaves. There are the everyday surprises that border upon the miraculous that keep all gardeners faithful to the task.
There is always more work to do and there are times when I wonder, "is this ever going to be finished" and I know the answer.
No. It will never be completed. Nor should it be.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Sunday matinee: "The Interpreter"
I'm always impressed when a director takes a small role in a movie of his own making. Syndey Pollack, director of this film and a hosts of others (Tootsie, Out of Africa, etc., etc.,) should well be proud of this film.
Between its tightly packed action sequences, its crisp dialogue and imagery, this film packs heat.
What I like best about a film like this is how it gets its messages across subtlety and with sophistication. I have to work at finding out what's really going on...and what's going on may have several levels.
Never met S. Pollack, but would imagine that he'd want me to find my own "morsels of truth" in this story and there are many: technology and how it both seperates and connects people, the emerging global world village, the disillusionment with leaders who follow their own drum. All of this and more in a 2 hour film, the film is carried both by Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn. Their acting is transparent and real, making me want to know more about the characters and their lives.
Pollack seems to be man with passion and verve and his movies greatly exemplify that. This one is purely inspired.
Between its tightly packed action sequences, its crisp dialogue and imagery, this film packs heat.
What I like best about a film like this is how it gets its messages across subtlety and with sophistication. I have to work at finding out what's really going on...and what's going on may have several levels.
Never met S. Pollack, but would imagine that he'd want me to find my own "morsels of truth" in this story and there are many: technology and how it both seperates and connects people, the emerging global world village, the disillusionment with leaders who follow their own drum. All of this and more in a 2 hour film, the film is carried both by Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn. Their acting is transparent and real, making me want to know more about the characters and their lives.
Pollack seems to be man with passion and verve and his movies greatly exemplify that. This one is purely inspired.
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