Showing posts with label #writeandrun31. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #writeandrun31. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

May 11/18- The tale of the elephant graveyard

Come, my dear. Let us take a walk. The sun will not set for a little while, no. There will be plenty of light. And if you walk with me, you need not fear the noises in the grass nor the haunting notes of the bird calls. 

Walk with me, I want you to see something.

Ah, this is a beautiful evening, isn't it, little one? The warm air just barely moving, you can feel it tickling the hairs on your skin, can't you? Just like the tops of the grasses, so long and green, waving just a bit. Oh, the grasses are so green this season. We can be grateful to the rains for the verdant colors in the grass.  Feel how lovely this grass is! Roll around in it! Stomp your feet! See how it springs right back into place? Try a bit. A mouthful is moist and crisp. These grasses are good. You've not yet eaten the brown grasses of the dry season. Those bites are brittle and powdery. They aren't tasty, and you will never feel satisfied. Hunger is the constant companion of the dry season. But that is not what I wanted to show you today. Come along with me.

Ah, here come the oranges and purples of twilight.  No, it is not time to turn around yet. Listen to the birds calling to one another.  They are still singing their daytime songs.  yes, I do notice that the birds accompany us when we walk! I think our voices and footsteps make the bugs of the earth curious, and when they pop up to see us, the birds feast!  No, I do not mind when the little birds alight upon my head and shoulders. Birds are good company, sometimes it is good to have their voices in your ear.  Besides, the birds can see quite far across the grasses and sands. They are excellent travelling companions.

Ah- you have found the watering hole! Did you know that your aunties and I made this place? When I was quite young, I came here with my mother and my aunties, and we played and stomped in the dirt. The mothers encouraged us to roll around and scrapple in the hollow each day and then one day we woke to a wonderful surprise! It was raining! And in the hole we'd made with our feet, the rain collected and made this lovely pool.  It was a cool place for drinking and splashing and bathing in the hot sun.  This watering hole made the dry season bearable.  We were happy to share this place, too.  The fleet brown gazelles, tan as the summer sand, would come drink here in the twilight. The long necked birds gracefully arrived. When the lions would come, though, we would allow them to have the pool all to themselves. Not one of us much liked sharing with the lions.

Do you see how the grasses are longer and greener around the edges of the watering hole? How these trees grow, spreading their branches out thickly at the edge of the water? Even in the dry season, these grasses and trees are fortified by this hole that we've made.

Come here, nearer to the trees. This is what I wanted to show you, little one. Do not be afraid.

These bones, here, are the bones of my mother, your grandmother. you may touch them. You may pick one up. Here. This was once her leg. She walked many, many lengths on this leg.  It is okay. It does not hurt her for me to pick up her leg. She does not mind it. In fact, her bones have stories to tell.  That is what I wanted to show you.  Every time I come here, to this watering hole, I visit her bones. I pick one up, and listen to the story she wants to tell me.  Today her leg bone is telling me a story about how even though she walked many lengths on this leg, and she has been bones for many seasons, these bones are still strong. I have the same bones in me, so I need not worry about growing weary on our next journey.

Yes, it is getting darker. We will turn back and return to your aunties soon, for a good sleep. But you need not fear this place! Do the bones of your grandmother frighten you? Ah- you are frightened of the other bones- those that do not belong to your grandmother?

That is true. There are other bones here. But look! They are all bones like us. What cause have you to be frightened? Do you think that we have come here to die? Do you think that we must now become bones because we have visited this place? Oh, little one.  This is not true.

Your grandmother did not come here to die.  Neither did any of the others here of our kind.  Look around you! What have you noticed today? This is a place of life! There is a watering hole. There is lovely green grass, and strong, shady trees. There are birds, and friends. There is life here. During the dry season, you will find that sometimes life contracts to this point. Dry, summer grasses out on the plains are brittle. My grandmother did not come here to die. She came here to live.  Each one here came to live, but could not. That is a cause for sadness, yes, but not for fear.

It seems that is the story grandmother's bones are telling you, little one. Seek life. Do not fear it. Do not fear death, either, as long as you are seeking life.














Author's note: An elephant's graveyard is often used in literature as a metaphor for a scary place where large things go to die. Researchers initially believed that elephants would go specifically to one place to die because often, multiple elephant skeletons were found in the same location. Now, however, researchers believe that elephants are merely traveling to the last known place of affluence.  
In addition, elephants have been observed mourning a fallen elephant, standing vigil over a recently deceased elephant, or even carrying elephant bones around with their trunks.
Clearly, we have a lot to learn.

Photos taken by Deb McCaslin (my MOM) in Zimbabwe, 2011



Wednesday, May 4, 2016

May 4- Take a moment to count your ducks.

This morning, I got up, put on my running pants, laced up my shoes, and readied myself for a run.  But I didn't run.

I know! Gasp!  What a terrible turn of events!

It wasn't raining, I had plenty of time to do it, but as I was getting ready, my brain was just buzzing with everything I had to do today.  Most of the time, I would have gone on the run, because my run time is my serious thinking time.  I could have quelled a few anxious thoughts out on the trail, but I still would have had a bunch to do.

So, I decided not to run, and instead took my normal running time to count my ducks.

What is counting ducks? Well, some people might refer to this process as "putting their ducks in a row."  Damnit, though, I'm a mathematician. I am not okay with just lining the ducks up. I need to know how many ducks there are.

It's a number thing. It always is with me.

(Out of curiosity, I just looked up the origins of the idiom "to have ones ducks in a row."   Worldwidewords.org states that this phrase possibly originated from the process of lining up target ducks at a carnival game, but the version they suggest that I like better is the process of a mother duck lining up her ducklings.)













So, I wanted to count my ducks.  This is just taking a little bit of time to put my affairs in order to make life simpler.  This is me lining up my ducklings so that we can safely cross the streets of Boston.

I work in academia, so my life works in cycles. Pre-semester is always busy- writing syllabi, preparing courses, doing a lot of computer work. Midterms and Finals times are also super busy, I give many tests, I grade many tests, and the next day I do it again. Right now I'm entering the last week of the Spring Semester, and like many people in my life, I'm feeling the crunch. It was good to take a moment.

What did I do then, instead of running?  Well, I did some house cleaning- often times when work is quite busy, as with most people, my house can get cluttered.  I've been staying on top of the clutter, but taking the time to give the house a good going over was well worth it. I swept, I vacuumed, I washed the welcome mats and the table cloths.  I also did some food prepping. Because I teach so late on Mondays and Wednesdays this semester, I don't often get a chance to make lunches for the next day. So I cooked some rice that I will fluff with some hummus and cucumbers tonight for tomorrow's lunch.

I was talking with Mia today, and she was stressed about the end of her semester, too. I suggested she take a moment to get grounded.  She figured out that it was really one project that was giving her stress, and the only reason she was stressed was because her classmate/partner wasn't doing their share.  Realizing the cause of her stress I think helped her. I also think it was good for her to talk it out and realize that she could do the entire project on her own, and didn't need her partner.  She counted her ducks.

Take a minute right now. Count your ducks. What are you stressed about? What is one thing that you could do right now that would help your stress level? If it is vacuum, then you should vacuum.  If it's going for a run, you should do that, too.

<3

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

May 3- To live at the risk of not being seen...

I came out on Sunday and announced to the world (at least to my little corner of it) that I was going to start writing. I have a book in me, I said. I am going to write every day, I told friends.  Several people encouraged me, telling me they wanted to read what I wrote, and buoyed by their encouragement, I wrote a really silly and fun blog post yesterday.

"Oooh," I thought, "I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks!"

I posted the blog link to my group, to my friends, and to other writers. I checked my post again and again. I wondered if my post actually went through. I bemoaned the techbunnies. I cursed social media algorithms.

And then, the self-doubt got me.  Why couldn't anyone see me? I just wanted everyone to laugh and tell me how cute my mouse story was. 

I felt unseen.

Please don't feel like this is a self-pitying post, or feel obliged to comment on this, past, or future posts, I'm just telling you how I felt....

This is not a rare phenomenon.  I have recently talked to several separate people who feel unseen, disconnected, unsupported and even ignored.  How can that be?

Well, one thing to keep in mind that if you use any type of social media to connect with others, you are subject to the algorithms of that platform.  If you feel unseen by people IRL, you might be out of sync with their current schedules.  

The internet is a wide beautiful place.  It gives us a false sense of closeness, and can skew our world perceptions because we join groups that are likely populated by similarly minded folk.  For instance, if I were to look at my facebook feed, I would assume that at least half of the world's population is vegan, because I make connections with vegans.  Looking at my instagram, one might guess that all of my friends were lithe and limber yogis, when in reality, most of the yogis I know would cringe to be photograph in bikinis.  Honestly, I have been surprised at the current state of American politics, because no-one I know is excited about the direction the primaries are headed. Clearly, my social circles, both on and off the internet, are biased in one way or another.

Like the internet, the human race is a varied population much bigger than we could ever imagine.

Sometimes it is hard to remember that just by shouting into the void, we are not always going to be heard.

Even when we share ourselves with those we love, we may not get the feedback we are looking for.  I asked Rob last night if he'd enjoyed my blog about the mice, and he confessed that he hadn't read it because he had too much work to do. I understand that. There have been days I've been remiss about emailing him because I've felt swamped at work.  Life happens.

But- what do we do? Is it worth it to live at the risk of not being seen? Do we just give up and stop sharing?

We can't. We just can't. Sharing ourselves is what makes us human. Whether we do so in person, or virtually via the interwebs, we must share.  And we must understand that sometimes we will be seen.

And sometimes we won't.

And we keep going. I will keep writing.

One of my favorite musicians, Amanda Palmer, has a lyric that I've incorporated into my motto lately.

"Stop Pretending Art is Hard."

Is it hard not to be seen? Sure. But harder yet is not to speak.

So, I have a favor to ask of you- if you read this, take a moment and make someone feel seen.  (Not me- I'm a big girl, I can take your silence.) Seriously, though, I implore you to tell someone who may feel under-appreciated that you see and respect them.

SPREAD LOVE <3


Monday, May 2, 2016

May 2- An open letter to the mice living under my stove

Dear Mice,

When we moved into this house, you didn't move in right away. You gave us a year to get settled, to let our guard down. Then, the second spring came with the typical east coast rain, and suddenly you were here.

Each year that you move in (and you sneaky buggers only seem to move in during particularly wet years) there's always about a month period of denial.

Me: Did you hear that in the kitchen?
Rob: Hear what?
Rob: Do you think we have mice again?
Me: Nahhh, we can't.

Part of my denial, please understand, dear mice, is that I don't understand how you can get away with brazenly setting up shop underneath the stove with three dogs in the house! Are you confused about this, too? Do you go to sleep at night thinking "Holy mouse-gods, how did we not get eaten by those barking fiends today?"

The second step, after denial, is bargaining.

Me (shouting towards the stove) : Ok, ahem, yes, hello Mice. I recognize that you're here. I get that it is wet outside and you've just moved in on a temporary basis. I'm okay with this. But let me lay some ground rules.
Mice:
Me: OK, rule number 1 is that you must keep all of your activities confined to the floor area. If there is any scampering, skittering, or darting, it needs to stay on the floor.
Mice:
Me: Rule number 2 is about your nesting and bathroom habits. If you could try to keep things tidy, I would really appreciate it. You'll notice that I no longer keep my baking sheets in the drawer below the oven. I've conceeded that space to you. But ONLY that space, understand?
Mice:
Me: Rule number 3 is about food. If it is on the floor, it is fair game, but if you start nibbling into my supply of nutritional yeast or garbanzo bean flour, that is immediate grounds for eviction.
Mice:
Me: And last rule, if and when you start procreating, please let your offspring know that you are not in development here. If they start moving out of the oven drawer and into other areas, I'm going to tell you right now, those are not friendly mouse zones. Are we in agreement?
Mice:
Me: I take it by your total silence on the subject that you understand and will abide by these rules.

The third step, which is where we currently stand, is where you mice start pushing the envelope. You start getting a little more comfortable. You are still abiding by the rules, but in a taunting way. Last night, as I sat at the kitchen island, catching up on some student emails, I could catch the glimpses of movement out of the corner of my eye. No direct mouse sighting, but shadow movements, like the dust sprites in My Neighbor Tortoro.
















I want to warn you, dear mice, that this kind of subversive behavior is not kind to your human hosts and providers. I know you think that because I am a vegan and I keep a cruelty free house that you are safe. You are safe, from death traps, those which might break your back, or rip off your skin. But what you are not safe from, dear mice, is me.

You see, I have amazingly fast reflexes when armed with a clear measuring cup. I have single-handedly caught many of your mice forefathers (and foremothers). I have a tiny animal carrier. I will begin rounding you up, and taking you to my running trail, many many miles away. When I catch you, you will go. Do I feel sad that you will probably never meet up with the remainder of your mouse family? Yes. But will I feel like a badass for live-catching you by hand and popping you in the woods? You'd better believe it.
















So, mice, this is your warning. You can quietly leave together now. I understand that there are several rotting trees in the back yard which would provide lovely nesting material. I don't even think our feral cat shelter back there is currently occupied, if you wamt to give that a go. Or, if you choose not to leave, you need to make sure every single one of our agreed on rules is followed.

Otherwise, lookout! I'm coming for you!

Love,
Me

May 1, Rabbit, Rabbit.

Rabbit, Rabbit.
If you've known me for a while, you know that on the first day of the month, first thing in the morning, I say "Rabbit, Rabbit."
It started in 2013, when I was reading a book wherein one of the characters said the phrase. The next day (12/1/13) I heard this quick bit on NPR's Weekend Edition ( http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=248041250).  Ever since then, it has stuck.
Do I believe my month will be unlucky if I don't say it? No, but I always say it. Just like I always touch the nose top of the bronze statue of Fala at the FDR memorial. There are just certain things that I DO. There's one particular thing I do prior to flying that I don't make a big deal about, but I just always do. After a little while, Rob asked me why I did it. It's not for luck, or anything in particular, it just is something I do. And over the years, it is cute, because now Rob and Mia do it, too.
Do I have a touch of OCD? Yes, probably. But I'm in good company. Among others who said "Rabbit, Rabbit" on the first of the month are FDR and Gilda Radner. Not a bad bowling team to join.
But this touch of OCD is probably why I love using my Mala for meditation. In Tibetan Buddhism, a mala is strung with 108 beads. Using this mala in meditation, the thought, mantra, prayer or desire is repeated 108 times, the thought being that through this repetition it is transferred into the universe.
Today I say Rabbit, Rabbit with a happy heart. Not only is it the start of a new month, but because I will finish out my spring semester this month, I'm establishing some new goals for myself that I hope to carry through (and add to!) This summer! Since May had 31 days, I'm resurrecting my #writeandrun31, meaning I plan to write every single day (and run 5+ days a week). There is a book inside me. And I want to start writing it this summer. So, even if I don't write material that will end up in my book, I will be writing every day. I'm also going to be doing some things in the next two weeks to make sure I don't get stressed with work, including meal preping, making time for yoga & meditation, and making sure I get plenty of sleep.
What are you doing today to set yourself up for the month?
And, remember, if you forgot to say "Rabbit, Rabbit" first thing this morning, don't forget to say "Tibbar, Tibbar" tonight before you go to sleep.