g love and her special sauce

14. heart

2012-02-14T19:04:00.000-08:00

13. blue

2012-02-13T17:56:00.000-08:00

12. inside your closet

2012-02-12T18:05:00.000-08:00

11. makes you happy

2012-02-11T18:32:00.000-08:00

10. self portrait

2012-02-10T19:14:00.000-08:00

9. front door

2012-02-09T17:16:00.000-08:00

8. sun: look closely...

2012-02-08T17:30:00.000-08:00

7. button

2012-02-07T18:35:00.000-08:00

6. dinner

2012-02-06T16:16:00.000-08:00

5. 10am

2012-02-05T14:33:00.000-08:00

4. A stranger...Or how did this lifegaurd in training in sunglasses get in my house??

2012-02-04T15:56:00.000-08:00

3. hands

2012-02-03T17:57:00.000-08:00

2. words

2012-02-02T17:29:00.000-08:00

1. my view today

2012-02-01T18:35:00.000-08:00

February Photo A Day...Here Goes!

2012-02-01T18:13:00.000-08:00

For my friends who have sworn off Facebook....Here's what we've been up to

2012-01-05T17:16:00.000-08:00

happy new year 2012

2012-01-01T13:35:00.000-08:00

this morning i woke up, rolled over, and my incredibly sweet, loving 2 year old immediately smiled and said, "happy birthday, mama" while holding my face gently between her hands. *sigh*

yesterday morning we went down to lake nockamixon (where we spent the weekend) and the water was as still as glass and the air was warm and zora said "the sky is in the water" and then suddenly we noticed the rainbow.

while hiking i kept hearing the geese and every time i saw their V formation they stopped me in their tracks - there is just something about the clarity of vision, direction that moves me. and the deer running through the forest in front of us...

last night there were bright stars and a bright moon and a raging campfire. and a homemade birthday chocolate cheesecake and champagne.

i am so, so lucky and i have gratitude for all this and for you, friends.

How the Light Comes

2011-12-24T19:19:00.000-08:00

How the Light Comes:
A Blessing for Christmas Day

I cannot tell you
how the light comes.

What I know
is that it is more ancient
than imagining.

That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.

That it loves
searching out
what is hidden
what is lost
what is forgotten
or in peril
or in pain.

That it has a fondness
for the body
for finding its way
toward flesh
for tracing the edges
of form
for shining forth
through the eye,
the hand,
the heart.

I cannot tell you
how the light comes,
but that it does.
That it will.
That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you,
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.

And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.
May we lift our faces
to let it find us.
May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still

to the blessed light
that comes.

© Jan L. Richardson. janrichardson.com

some spring and summer pictures

2011-08-01T09:05:00.000-07:00

broad street run, report back.

2011-05-01T18:34:00.001-07:00

oh philly, how i love you.

this morning i ran the broad street run.

my friends in the 11 minute/mile corral kept me laughing with some good natured ribbing of the people ahead of us - "they've finished their warm up run to city hall and they're going to lap us!" and behind us - "as long as we keep the walkers behind us we'll be fine."

mayor nutter raised the roof to keep us entertained as we waited at the start, anxious to get started.

the lovely ladies in north philly shouted, "9 more miles!" and "you're almost there!"

the high schoolers wore tutus and handed out water.

ed rendell gave high fives in center city.

the bands played.

the runners raised money for all kinds of good causes and used their t-shirts to make a point, "philly against fracking" and to tell us in whose memory they were running.

we cheered each other on and challenged each other to run a little harder, a little faster.

i smiled the entire 10 miles.

and then, i ate some free water ice.

i do love you so, philly.

2011-02-11T13:18:00.001-08:00

fun-a-day

2011-01-13T18:20:00.000-08:00

i am participating in philadelphia fun-a-day.

i will be posting a sneak preview of my project in a few days, but wanted you philly folks to mark your calendars - the show is at studio 34, february 11th and 12th from 7pm-11pm both nights. i would love to see you there!

2010-12-16T18:26:00.000-08:00

Ani Difranco - Paradigm

2010-11-15T13:18:00.000-08:00

i've been thinking about mothering, and memory, and trying to raise

a righteous kid. this song seemed appropriate. here are the lyrics.

halloween bumblebee

2010-11-07T17:22:00.000-08:00

new pictures of zora, as requested (you know who you are).

2010-08-10T18:38:00.001-07:00

my latest letter to the editor

2010-06-20T07:26:00.000-07:00

My latest letter to the editor was published today in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

In response to this article, here's what I wrote:

Re: "Man, 18, charged in waitress' slaying," Thursday:
Sabina Rose O'Donnell's recent rape and murder is a tragedy. I am dismayed that the Philadelphia police and you are framing this crime as a robbery that escalated. The suspect was clearly physically stronger than O'Donnell, so why didn't he just take her bike and leave? Instead, he dragged O'Donnell behind a building, ripped off her clothes, raped her, and strangled her. He then left her bike behind the building in order to try breaking into other apartments in her building.

Our society teaches young people the way to get what you want and feel powerful is through violence (including sexual violence). We preach the gospel of power over instead of power with. This plays out in our intimate relationships (a fourth of U.S. women are victims of intimate partner violence), our communities, (O'Donnell's death), and our world.

Susanna Gilbertson

Philadelphia

Here's the link to the web page - mine is the second letter on the page.

gratitude and thanksgiving

2010-05-03T18:40:00.000-07:00

Notwithstanding those outcries for help and hope that are wrung from us in [difficult] times, our first priority for developing a spiritual practice is the cultivation of a sense of gratitude and thanksgiving...Make a ritual of pausing frequently to appreciate and be thankful. Bless the food that nourishes you. Bless whoever loves you in any way. Bless the gifts and talents that call you to create. Bless the colors, one by one -- the primal blue, green, yellow, red, and all pastels and mottled mauves. Bless old friends. Bless little children and ancient parents. Bless...all the unguents of pleasure. Bless, especially Bach and whoever causes your ass and heart to move in rhythm. Bless those books that have blessed you. Bless sleep and waking.
Notice the more you become a connoisseur of gratitude, the less you are the victim of resentment, depression, and despair. Gratitude will act as an elixir that will gradually dissolve the hard shell of your ego -- your need to possess and control -- and transform you into a generous being.
Sam Keen, Hymns to an Unknown God

2010, so far

2010-04-03T18:11:00.001-07:00

10 things i've learned during my first year of motherhood, in honor of zora's first birthday on saturday!

2010-02-20T15:32:00.001-08:00

1 Any woman who gives birth without pain medications is a total bad ass. (Yes, I am.)

2 Breastfeeding hurts. (As Patty the lactation consultant says.) Even when you're doing it "right," for many women the first 4-6 weeks are hell. We're talking sore and cracked and sometimes bleeding nipples. It's not all it's cracked up to be! (Ha!) It is worth it, though, if you can manage to get through the hard part - the benefits to your baby are awesome!

3 Newborns sleep a lot, at first. As they start to wake up, they start to cry. It's perfectly normal for a newborn to cry many hours a day just for the fun of it.

4 There is nothing wrong (and in fact it's quite normal) with not feeling overwhelming gushes of love constantly for your baby during the first few months. Your baby is a peeing, pooping, crying, hungry mess who can't even smile at you or say thanks for not putting her out with the garbage when she kept you up the whole night. They key is to not put your baby out with the garbage. You will come to ADORE this little being, I promise. You will feel love like never before. (If you are still not feeling this good juicy love in a reasonable amount of time, you might have postpartum depression and should get some help. It happens to a lot of women!) In the meantime, if you think you MIGHT put your baby on the curb with your recyclables, hand her to a responsible adult - or if that's not possible, put her in her crib, and walk away. Get some rest, drink some tea, breathe. You can do it! It will all be worth it, and then some!

5 There is nothing wrong with nursing your baby to sleep every night if that's what works for you. Ditto for co-sleeping. Other people love to give advice about parenting, but you are the one living it, and you've got to make decisions that are going to work for you and your family.

6 It is possible to work full time and be an attentive, loving mama. I said possible, not easy!

7 Being a working, pumping mama ushers you into a secret society whose members recognize each other by the big black bags and back packs, and small black square coolers they are lugging back and forth from work on the train and the bus. The members of this society discuss such topics as "keeping my supply up", electric vs. hand pumps, single vs. double pumps, the most interesting place you have been forced to pump (tie between federal courthouse and bible school classroom for me), how to find time to pump during the work day, what is the best storage container for breast milk, what was your worst breast milk spill mishap, how many ounces can you pump at one time, hands free pumping, and so much more!

8 There is something mystical about devoting your full attention to one task, to really losing yourself in the joy of it, to losing track of time, to a clear mind. I'm talking about being with Zora. It is an otherworldly feeling to be fully with her, to ignore the to do list and the dust under the couch. On the other hand, there is also something incredible about a parent's ability to multi-task. In the early days, breastfeeding and checking my email at the same time allowed me to meet Zora's needs for nutrition and closeness and my needs for connection to adult loved ones and a sense of sanity. To say nothing of the joys of breastfeeding while sleeping!

9 Mothering without your own mother is hard. Really hard. My mom died two years ago this month. I miss my mom every day and the grief is compounded by my love for Zora. I want my mom to meet her beautiful granddaughter, to hold her, to rock her, to kiss her, to give me all kinds of advice (the good, the bad, the unasked for, the solicited...), to talk to me about how I was at that age. I want Zora to get to spend the night with my mom. I want to see Zora's face when she realizes that I am to her what my mom is to me.

10 The only thing that remains the same is that everything changes. So I am trying to soak up and savor every moment of this amazing, precious gift. Thanks to all of you who have been such a big support to me, to Mike and to Zora over the last year.

christmas cuteness

2010-01-11T16:30:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T09:30:00.000-08:00

What is hope? It is the presentiment that imagination is more real and reality less real than it looks. It is the hunch that the overwhelming brutality of facts that oppress and repress is not the last word. It is the suspicion that Reality is much more complex than realism wants us to believe; that the frontiers of the possible are not determined by the limits of the actual, and that in a miraculous and unexpected way life is preparing the creative event which will open the way to freedom and resurrection ...

Tomorrow's Child, by Rubem Alves

zora had fun in the snow with her papa today

2009-12-20T18:29:00.000-08:00

surrender

2009-12-06T17:44:00.001-08:00

Love comes with a knife,

not some shy question.

And not with fears for its reputation!

Love is a madman working

his wild schemes,

tearing off his clothes,

running through the mountains

drinking poison and quietly choosing annihilation.

There are love stories and

there is obliteration into love.

You've been walking the ocean's edge

holding up your robes to keep them dry.

You must dive naked under,

and deeper under,

a thousand times deeper.

Love flows down.

The ground submits to the sky

and suffers what comes.

Tell me, is the earth worse for giving in like that?

Don't put blankets over the drum.

Open completely.

-Rumi

This Rumi poem has really been speaking to me lately. I included it in a blessing for some friends who are having a baby soon (hi Tim and Amy!) because one of the many lessons that Zora has taught me/is teaching me is how to surrender to whatever it is I'm feeling at any given moment - whether it's joy, frustration, awe, boredom, peace, exhaustion, or love.

some people i'm incredibly thankful for.

2009-11-25T19:10:00.000-08:00

breastfeeding and fulfilling my civic duty

2009-10-02T15:34:00.000-07:00

i had jury duty in district court yesterday. as a nursing mama, i certainly wondered how court staff were going to handle my pumping needs.

upon arrival, i was ushered into the security line and dutifully put my backpack on the security belt. the US marshall (they don't mess around in district court) had two things to question me about after my bag went through security. 1) the fork in my backpack. (me: sorry, sir, that's from lunch yesterday. US marshall: yes, well, m'am, you can't take a fork into the courthouse.) and 2) the "bag of electronics" at the bottom of my bag. (me, totally emboldened: that's my BREAST milk pump. do you want to see? US marshall, completely embarrassed: no, m'am, go right ahead, you're fine. i just need that fork, that's all.)

US Marshalls: 0 Nursing Mamas of the World: 1

whoever's taking notes: add federal courthouse to the list of unusual places susanna has pumped.

an important video about a vital labor struggle in philly

2009-08-26T18:57:00.000-07:00

a very important video about abortion providers under siege in PA

2009-07-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

zora the explorer.

2009-07-20T19:38:00.001-07:00

zora is a trooper. she's almost five months old and she's already been to three baseball games, dipped her little feet in the ocean, been hiking and camping, gotten stuck in thunderstorms with downpours, hail and intense winds (twice in one week!), braved the crowds at the boardwalk at the jersey shore and been the center of attention at various fundraisers and events. and through it all she continues to be the most inquisitive, happy, peaceful kid we could have hoped for.

how she's going to handle this new teething thing she's got going on remains to be seen...

adventures in motherhood.

2009-07-09T15:09:00.000-07:00

so i'm sitting on the 34 trolley yesterday with my backpack on my lap (to make as much room as possible for my fellow riders), minding my own business, when i feel the top of my pants getting wet. i pick up my backpack and notice the bottom is completely wet. my first thought is, "shit! i put my leftover indian food from lunch in my backpack - it must have spilled." so i quickly open my backpack to figure out who's the culprit and start pawing through all my work papers, lunch leftovers, and ... my cooler bag full of breastmilk.

yup, a full 5 ounce bag of breastmilk which i had dutifully pumped that day at work had punctured and leaked all over everything. my calendar, which i use to keep track of both my work and home life, was soaked. a high powered fan managed to dry most of the pages out but it still smells like milk today.

i'm taking it as a sign - trying to separate my professional identity and my mama identity may not be so simple. i'm a mom, and a trainer, and a lot of other things, and when i'm at work i'm also a mama- either because i know i better wrap up this presentation quick so i can go pump or because when i'm scheduling presentations i now do so in my milky-scented calendar or because i'm trying to end domestic violence so my little zora doesn't have to grow up in a world where 1 in 3 women experience violence by their intimate partner.

i'm also taking it as a sign that motherhood will continue to throw zingers at me, and i better be ready to laugh and keep truckin. just when i thought i had had enough bodily fluids leaked on me, as i was heading to bed last night i went to grab fine just the way it is, the book i'm reading right now, only to discover that the cover was, well, covered with spit up. motherhood is clearly full of surprises, and i'm trying my hardest to be up for the challenge!

Support the Breastfeeding Promotion Act

2009-06-25T14:07:00.000-07:00

Hi all, See below for a very important message from Momsrising.org about the Breastfeeding Promotion Act. As a breastfeeding, working, pumping mama myself I feel quite passionately about this - please take action on this!

Friends,

Did you know that tough economic times may be making it harder for women to breastfeed? According to a recent ABC news story, one of the fall-outs from the recession is that some new mothers are feeling forced to take shorter maternity leaves due to concerns about finances and job stability.

Unfortunately, women who have to cut their maternity leave short often can’t continue to breastfeed their infants because many workplaces don't adequately support breastfeeding. That's a big problem when you consider that 56% of women with infants are now the in the labor force--we need common-sense workplace policies to make sure that moms who want to breastfeed can.

Act now for nursing moms by urging your Members of Congress to support the Breastfeeding Promotion Act!

mourning dove babies!

2009-06-15T18:26:00.001-07:00

the eggs hatched! here are some photos of mama feeding the babies.

some new pictures of zora

2009-06-13T17:33:00.000-07:00

working mama

2009-05-27T17:56:00.000-07:00

i've been back at work for about a week and a half.

the first day was incredibly painful. i felt physically ill leaving my little one.

did you ever watch a nightmare on elm street, those crazy freddy krueger horror movies?

there's this one scene where he's on one side of the room and his victim is on the other. they're connected because freddy has pulled the tendons of the victim out - you see the victim looking horrified that half his body is stretched to the other side of the room. that's sort of how i felt on monday.

it got easier every day. it really, really helped that zora was in the completely capable, loving hands of her nana, carol. and that carol sends me regular text messages throughout the day letting me know what zora is up to. (i'm not sure how i'm going to survive when she finally goes to daycare.)

my usual efficient, multi-tasking self has succumbed to fatigue and delirium. i forget my pumped breast milk at work and have to hike up the three flights of stairs to retrieve it. i forget to wear nursing pads and leak all over. my milk spurts out onto my computer keyboard. i forget words such as bird and bus. the highlight of my work day is seeing how many ounces i was able to pump. i can't WAIT to get home to give zora a kiss, and could care less about all the work i should stay and finish when the clock says 5pm.

it's funny because my return to work coincided with the return of the mourning doves to the window sill outside my office. mama bird laid two perfectly round, white eggs. i'm waiting for babies birds to appear. stay tuned! i love having a mama buddy right outside my office window!

she smiles...

2009-05-02T18:57:00.001-07:00

hush little baby: zora loves this guy.

2009-05-02T18:30:00.000-07:00

2009-04-21T14:03:00.001-07:00

2009-04-21T13:22:00.000-07:00

stay at home dad rap

2009-03-13T18:27:00.001-07:00

happy two week birthday zora!

2009-03-13T18:07:00.000-07:00

zora, inside and out

2009-03-03T06:03:00.000-08:00

we are overjoyed to welcome zora into our lives. she was born on february 27, 2009 at 6:34am.

she's the best.

belly cast

2009-02-22T13:54:00.000-08:00

one year and 37 weeks

2009-02-10T15:32:00.000-08:00

it's been one year since mom passed on from this world to the next.
it's been 37 weeks that bean has been getting ready to enter this world from the womb world.

i am celebrating both of them today.

i am remembering mom today - not the mom who died in hospice a year ago, her body crippled with multiple myeloma, but the mom who mothered me for 62 years. the mom who taught me what unconditional love feels like. the mom who was always my champion. the mom who taught me the value of true friends and community, in good times and bad. the mom who provided endless opportunities for fun and play, and knew how to have a good laugh. the mom who, whether working or not, always put a home cooked meal on the table and insisted we eat together as a family - even if this meant dinner at 8:30pm. the mom with the green thumb, whose yards were always beautiful and whose houses were full of plants. the mom who knew how to use coupons and look for sales and stretch a little money into a lot of groceries. the wordsmith mom - with her intense love of crossword puzzles and the way she could command a room during her trainings. the mom who spoke her mind. the stubborn, fierce, my-way-or-the-highway mom. the mom who could talk about her children endlessly to friends or strangers.

i believe that one of the best ways i can honor mom's spirit is to (attempt to) bring some of what i learned from her about being a good mother to my relationship with bean. i have felt her spirit with me strongly in the last few weeks, and believe she's going to be with me during my labor and my early journey into motherhood. i am very excited about bean's arrival, and hope that the love that mom offered to me during her time here on earth will nourish bean and our new family.

i appreciate all of you who remembered me today with emails and phone calls.

getting closer...

2009-01-21T16:36:00.000-08:00

well, this mama (and papa!) are quite pleased that the bean decided to float and kick and squirm and sleep his/her way through the next few weeks head down. last time we saw the midwife we were told that bean was lying "transverse" - in other words, sideways across my belly. today (with the birth center's newly purchased ultrasound machine) we confirmed that bean is head down, getting ready...

at least this is some consolation for the horrendous rib pain i am having in my right side. seems like bean is getting big enough to be crowding my organs, thus causing me lots of pain. (not to mention heartburn from hell!)

i am hard at work reading everything i can get my hands on to prepare for the arrival of bean, including _the no cry sleep solution_, _the happiest baby on the block_, and just to mix it up a bit, _the maternal is political_. i figure the part of me that can't function without sleep needs as much instruction as the activist part of me when it comes to how motherhood is going to change me.

happy president obama day!

2009-01-20T14:10:00.000-08:00

i am so incredibly happy and feel so blessed that the first president that my child will know is obama. i was moved by both openly gay episcopal bishop gene robinson's invocation at the inaugural concert, and civil rights hero rev. lowery's benediction after obama was sworn in. here they are for your enjoyment:

bishop gene robinson's invocation:

O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…

Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.

Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.

Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.

Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.

Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.

Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.

And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.

Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.

Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.

Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.

Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.

Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.

Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.

And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.

AMEN.

rev. lowery's benediction:

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, thou who has brought us thus far along the way, thou who has by thy might led us into the light, keep us forever in the path, we pray, lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee, lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee. Shadowed beneath thy hand may we forever stand -- true to thee, O God, and true to our native land.

We truly give thanks for the glorious experience we've shared this day. We pray now, O Lord, for your blessing upon thy servant, Barack Obama, the 44th president of these United States, his family and his administration. He has come to this high office at a low moment in the national and, indeed, the global fiscal climate. But because we know you got the whole world in your hand, we pray for not only our nation, but for the community of nations. Our faith does not shrink, though pressed by the flood of mortal ills.

For we know that, Lord, you're able and you're willing to work through faithful leadership to restore stability, mend our brokenness, heal our wounds and deliver us from the exploitation of the poor or the least of these and from favoritism toward the rich, the elite of these.

We thank you for the empowering of thy servant, our 44th president, to inspire our nation to believe that, yes, we can work together to achieve a more perfect union. And while we have sown the seeds of greed -- the wind of greed and corruption, and even as we reap the whirlwind of social and economic disruption, we seek forgiveness and we come in a spirit of unity and solidarity to commit our support to our president by our willingness to make sacrifices, to respect your creation, to turn to each other and not on each other.

And now, Lord, in the complex arena of human relations, help us to make choices on the side of love, not hate; on the side of inclusion, not exclusion; tolerance, not intolerance.

And as we leave this mountaintop, help us to hold on to the spirit of fellowship and the oneness of our family. Let us take that power back to our homes, our workplaces, our churches, our temples, our mosques, or wherever we seek your will.

Bless President Barack, First Lady Michelle. Look over our little, angelic Sasha and Malia.

We go now to walk together, children, pledging that we won't get weary in the difficult days ahead. We know you will not leave us alone, with your hands of power and your heart of love.

Help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors, when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree, and none shall be afraid; when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.

Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: Say amen --

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: -- and amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen! (Cheers, applause.)

happy new year!

2009-01-01T19:12:00.000-08:00

What I Have Learned So Far

Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I
not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside,
looking into the shining world? Because, proper-
ly attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is sug-
gestion. Can one be passionate about the just, the
ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit
to no labor in its cause? I don't think so.

All summations have a beginning, all effect has a
story, all kindness begins with the sown seed.
Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of
light is the crossroads of--indolence, or action.

Be ignited, or be gone.

--Mary Oliver

Happy 2009 everyone.
Best wishes for a new year filled with fruitful
labor (not just for me and the bean!), delight,
justice and love.

30 weeks and counting...

2008-12-21T17:53:00.000-08:00

happy solstice everyone.
tonight is the longest night of the year.
tomorrow the light starts to return.

i am very aware of time these days.
i am now 30 weeks pregnant, which means in seven short weeks
i will be "full term."

soon i will be having the first christmas of my life without my mom,
who i will miss and remember very much on this holiday. this is also
the first christmas i will have with the bean.

i want to take time to remember my mom, and the way that she and our
family celebrated christmas. i want to remember to be grateful for all of the
ways she made christmas special. i am reminding myself to slow down and
savor these last few weeks of bean being a part of my body. i am, if nothing else,
a planner. so i need these days to calm my anxiety about all
the things that need to get done and all the baby books i need to read
and all the horrible things that could happen and J U S T
B R E A T H E. i hope the solstice, and the coming new year,
(or maybe just the winter chill!) offers you a chance to
slow down and remember and reflect.

courage

2008-11-26T13:39:00.000-08:00

happy thanksgiving, y'all.

this thanksgiving i am grateful for many things.
as usual in my life, the thing i am most grateful for is my people.

i've been thinking a lot about courage lately.
the people i claim as my people are courageous.

they battle breast cancer, deal with recovery from double masectomies.
they've lost six month old babies who they visited every day in the hospital, only to never be able to bring them home. they've held, washed, clothed, and cradled their still born babies.
they've been sexually assaulted and abused.
they've lost loved ones to katrina, iraq, depression, cancer, addiction, and guns.
they suffer with depression, eating disorders, anxiety.
they've lost their hair, their ability to walk, their sight, their ability to eat most things, their indepedence (and their retirement savings!).
they've lost their closest friends and family after claiming their sexual orientation or gender identity. they've gained and then lost the ability to marry their partners.

but these people are my people because even in the face of all of this, they haven't lost their ability to laugh, or to make the people around them do the same. my people still want to know how YOU are, even as they are barely hanging on. my people know how to celebrate small victories and big blessings. my people know how to be grumpy as hell and how to cry. my people possess a certain amount of grace that helps to see them through. they may not be able to forgive themselves, but they definitely forgive you.

my people have not given up hope. my people know what's important - my people know that all we have is each other and a sense that things could be better. my people know about taking risks to get there.

the thing that has stuck with me since the historic evening of november 4th is this - many Americans - enough of us - were able to see through the lies and fear mongering to vote for a president who had been branded a pal to terrorists, a socialist, and a Muslim. (by the way, some of my closest friends are Muslim, so it really hurts me that this was considered an insult...) Many Americans - enough - voted for a man named Barack Hussein Obama - in a country where anything foreign is suspect. The fact that enough people took this risk and voted for hope and not fear makes me think maybe there are more of my people out there than I realized. And for that I'm thankful.

the little bean is not so little.

2008-11-24T18:53:00.000-08:00

here's the 25 week picture, a week belated...
much more to say, coming soon.

stop the rumor mongering!

2008-10-25T08:10:00.000-07:00

ok, people, i want to clear something up. the use of "his mama" below was a mistake.
as you can see in the comments, every once in a while i slip and use "his" or "her." it just happened to be "his" this time.

we did not find out the sex of the bean, and we're not planning on finding out. i think it will be a wonderful surprise, and i look forward to welcoming and loving our child, whatever his/her/hir's sex or gender may turn out to be.

let the rumors be put to rest. :)

the little bean

2008-10-21T17:14:00.000-07:00

we had our first ultrasound this morning, and saw a picture of the (if i may start bragging this early) very cute little bean.

seeing the little bean makes it much easier to put up with the trials and tribulations caused by the hormones that are keeping bean healthy - fun things like pregnancy acne and pregnancy gingivitis. and seeing bean also helps me to forget the hip pain, morning sickness,
and fatigue that i have hopefully had my fill of.

before i got pregnant i imagined pregnancy to be this time of great beauty and peace. i imagined i would be like the earth mama below, glowing and beautiful and in my body and totally natural.
i guess i just didn't anticipate the pimples, bleeding gums, pain, nausea, and exhaustion. or the cravings for cheez-its and chocolate. oh well! it looks like bean has made out a-ok so far even through his mama's ups and downs, and that's certainly what matters.

20 weeks in puerto rico

2008-10-15T14:35:00.000-07:00

mike and i had a lovely last gasp (before bean) vacation in puerto rico this weekend. pictures above - with a picture of me at 20 weeks somewhere in the middle of the slide show.

there were many highlights of our weekend, including happening on an independista rally, lounging on the beach (and then getting kicked out because we were using a fancy hotel's facilities!), lounging on the hotel rooftop (where there was a hot tub!), exploring el yunque rainforest, trying out the san juan bus system, and listening to live music at the waterfront.

alaska women reject palin rally

2008-09-18T05:47:00.001-07:00

people, check this out. thanks rebecca for alerting me to this - very, very hopeful!

food for thought

2008-09-18T05:47:00.000-07:00

A few of you sent this along to me. Tim Wise is one of my favorite writers and anti-racist activists.

September 13, 2008, 2:01 pm

This is Your Nation on White Privilege

By Tim Wise

For those who still can’t grasp the concept of white privilege, or who are constantly looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list will help.

White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or your parents, because “every family has challenges,” even as black and Latino families with similar “challenges” are regularly typified as irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.

White privilege is when you can call yourself a “fuckin’ redneck,” like Bristol Palin’s boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with you, you'll “kick their fuckin' ass,” and talk about how you like to “shoot shit” for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.

White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of, then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college), and no one questions your intelligence or commitment to achievement, whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for college, and probably someone who only got in in the first place because of affirmative action.

White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don’t all piss on themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you’re “untested.” 

White privilege is being able to say that you support the words “under God” in the pledge of allegiance because “if it was good enough for the founding fathers, it’s good enough for me,” and not be immediately disqualified from holding office--since, after all, the pledge was written in the late 1800s and the “under God” part wasn’t added until the 1950s--while believing that reading accused criminals and terrorists their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea only supported by mushy liberals. 

White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people immediately scared of you. 

White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union, and whose motto was “Alaska first,” and no one questions your patriotism or that of your family, while if you're black and your spouse merely fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the first day of school, people immediately think she’s being disrespectful. 

White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the work they do--like, among other things, fight for the right of women to vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child labor--and people think you’re being pithy and tough, but if you merely question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college--you’re somehow being mean, or even sexist. 

White privilege is being able to convince white women who don’t even agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running mate anyway, because all of a sudden your presence on the ticket has inspired confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a “second look.” 

White privilege is being able to fire people who didn’t support your political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago means you must be corrupt. 

White privilege is being able to attend churches over the years whose pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say the conflict in the Middle East is God’s punishment on Jews for rejecting Jesus, and everyone can still think you’re just a good church-going Christian, but if you’re black and friends with a black pastor who has noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you’re an extremist who probably hates America. 

White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a “trick question,” while being black and merely refusing to give one-word answers to the queries of Bill O’Reilly means you’re dodging the question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced. 

White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black and experiencing racism is, as Sarah Palin has referred to it a “light” burden. 

And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90 percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren’t sure about that whole “change” thing. Ya know, it’s just too vague and ill-defined, unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and certain… 

White privilege is, in short, the problem.

two feminists on palin. oh, three counting me.

2008-09-14T18:37:00.000-07:00

sarah palin gets on my last nerve.
she is the reason i'm going to get involved in the obama campaign.
i'm deeply embarrassed about the possibility that i will be a citizen of a country with a vice president (and very possibly a president) who does not believe in evolution or global warming or sex education.

here's what eve ensler had to say about palin. (thanks to rebecca for this.)

and gloria steinem's thoughts are here. (thanks to dad for this one.)

there is a movement afoot to donate to planned parenthood in honor of sarah palin. (thanks to sara for alerting me to this brilliant scheme.)
planned parenthood will gladly send sarah a card to let her know about your kind gift. i just did it, and i encourage all of you who believe in comprehensive sex education to do the same. here's the link. click on in honory/in memory. and here's sarah's address for planned parenthood to send the card to:

John McCain 2008
P.O. Box 16118
Arlington, VA 22215

we're back...with belly

2008-09-09T18:01:00.000-07:00

i'm sorry for the long absence.
there were many reasons, including unpacking and getting settled into our new home.

and: i'm 15 weeks pregnant! see above for the first of many belly pictures.
we are absolutely thrilled about the new little one developing in my womb.

bean (our name for the little one) has been wreaking havoc on my body. the first trimester was ROUGH. lots of terrible morning sickness and, in the last month, fatigue like i've never experienced.

it seems like i'm on the upswing - i'm hoping i will experience that second trimester high everyone talks about.

we were keeping this news hush hush until very recently. glad to be able to share with you here on g.love some of the ups and downs of this new adventure.

over and over again

2008-07-28T14:46:00.000-07:00

one thing i'm learning about grief - it's not a process that ends.
it's a process with peaks and valleys, but one that i can't imagine being over anytime soon.

we said goodbye to my mom's house a few weeks ago.
it was achingly, terribly, viciously hard.
we had a lot of help, so the physical part of packing up was quick and easy, thanks to mom's web of good friends. this meant that i had time in the weekend to truly grieve leaving the last place her earthly body inhabited.

i sat in her lovely backyard, with its tall trees and birds singing, and wept. and wept. and wept.
i asked for a message, some guidance, something...and what i heard was: it's ok to let go of her house. her spirit is with you always and doesn't reside here. i also swear i heard her laughing that the house is finally clean!

mike and i are now moved into our new house, so i am unpacking things from mom's house that i packed back in march when we started the process of packing up her house. it's alternately like opening presents at christmas (wow! this is beautiful! i forgot about this!) and walking through a minefield (i remember when mom used to make us iced tea in this pitcher when we were kids)...

i am learning to make space for really feeling these feelings.

from one of my favorite websites

2008-07-15T16:34:00.000-07:00

stuff

2008-06-23T17:51:00.000-07:00

today i donated over 25 pairs of my mom's prescription eye glasses to pearl vision, who will send them on to the lions club. the lions club then distributes the glasses around the wor ld on "optical missions." the woman at pearl vision looked at me a bit strangely when i handed her the large bag. mom had eye glasses, and prescription sun glasses, stashed all around the house. i imagine what happened is that when she got a new prescription, she put the old glasses in the back of a drawer, and there they remained until we started cleaning out her house.

m, my brother, his wife and i have been cleaning out mom's house since she died. it has been at times harrowing, heart breaking, funny, boring, exhausting, frustrating, sweet...pieces of mom's whole life were in that house. her mother's keepsakes were also in the house so i felt as i was pawing through things that i was looking through generations of things not just mom's things.

we are nearing the end. we are hoping to have the house cleaned out by the end of the next weekend we are there. i have ordered a dumpster. as i have mentioned in earlier posts, my mother, god bless her, was a pack rat. she went back and forth from defending herself ("this is how i like things, having my things all around me makes me happy, i need visual stimulation, etc.") to feeling shame about it ("i'm a horrible housekeeper."). when we first started cleaning out the house, we had multiple piles: Keep, Trash, Glass Recycle, Plastic Recycle, Aluminum Recycle, Paper Recycle, Donate, etc. the last time we were there i just walked around the house with a trash bag. i talked to her as i was throwing things away - i felt this was necessary because otherwise i imagined her rolling over in her grave!

i am going to miss her house - it is the last place that i can feel her presence in. she liked things just so, and it is sad to leave the place she made home. i am hoping that filling my new home with her things will allow me to feel her spirit as i make my own nest.

deep connection

2008-06-02T20:37:00.000-07:00

this weekend i went to my 10-year college reunion.
surprisingly, i really enjoyed myself.

i find, these days, that i can't- or maybe won't - put up a front.
when i'm feeling sad, or angry, or frustrated, or exhausted, you'll know about it.
i have less patience than usual and less ability to fake it.
when i'm tired, i'll cry at the drop of a hat.

so here i go, off to see people i haven't seen in 10 years and some other people
i've kept in touch with only off and on.

and they all ask me, "how are you? what's been going on?"
and what i want to say is, "well, my mom died. she died in february. she was
diagnosed with cancer in august and she was dead 6 months later. it's been a horrible year and
i can't believe i survived it but i think since i did that i must have this well of strength
somewhere that i'm choosing to believe will continue to carry me through as i try to heal
from this horrible thing that happened. how are you?"
but instead i settle for, "well, it's been a rough year but overall i'm doing great."

and suprisingly, i am able to tell people who want more than the typical reunion soundbite what happened. and i connect, with close friends and acquaintances alike, about loss. they tell me about the premature death of their mother. about a stillborn baby. i hear about other parents with cancer diagnoses. and it feels like maybe this is life.

and it feels so good to connect with other people who have experienced these terrible losses and survived. it gives me some hope. and it 's comforting that they get it. they get the exhaustion, the insanity, the depression that are a part of this thing called grief. they get dark humor. they joke about the stupid things that people say to people who are grieving. they get that these stupid things are better than silence. they get shock, and denial, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. they get incredible feats of strength at surprising times. how did we do all that the week after she died? and they get that all we have is each other. and so we have long, intimate conversations while those around us are doing the location-and-job-and-repeat game.

p.s.

2008-05-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

i bought a house!

and sold my mom's house.

whew.

you'll have to call me, or come to our house party on friday, if you'd like details...

happy mother's day!

2008-05-11T15:22:00.000-07:00

happy mother's day to all you incredible moms out there.

i've been thinking a lot lately (in anticipation of mother's day) of what my mom taught me about how to be a good mother.

here are some of the things that made my mom a spectatular mom:

amazing listening skills. my mom could listen to ANY story i told her, from thrilling to boring. she always made me feel heard.
remembering. my mom always remembered the stories i told her, and would ask me follow up questions the next time we spoke. this made me feel very important!
she always knew who my friends were, and why i loved them. this was a great way for mom to know more about me, my values, and what i might be up to on any given saturday night. she also taught me through her actions the value of good friends.
my mom always let me know how proud she was of me. this made me feel very confident and self assured.
trust. my mom allowed me to do insane things because she knew she had raised me right and even if i found myself in a jam, i'd figure out a way to get out of it. my mom trusted me even when it pained her - even when she was scared to death. i think her deeply faithful nature helped here. especially when i declared in my junior year of high school that i was going to zimbabwe.
leading by example. my mom never sat me down and said, "it's important to find a way to work towards justice in our world." she just did it, and i learned from her example.
ritual and tradition. holidays and weekends were special. mom knew how to make ritual and do tradition - with food, with music, with decorations...
being her own person. although mom was incredibly proud of her children, and talked about us at length whenever she got the chance even to strangers, she also had her own life. she had her own friends, her own interests, her own dreams, her own life.

here's to moms -- biological and chosen.

the line in this poem about "risk[ing] my significance" makes me think of the way my mom always put me first and gave endlessly of herself.

I will not live an unlived life.
I will not live in fear,
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as bloosom,
goes on as fruit.

Dawna Markova

gratitude

2008-04-27T18:08:00.000-07:00

the sermon in church this morning was about how we are not orphaned from god, even when we feel orphaned by the circumstances in our life - be it a divorce or the loss of a loved one or some other great tragedy that makes most people feel alone.

the sermon really struck me today - because in a sense i have been "orphaned" by the death of my mother but have felt so incredibly held by my community that while i have felt deep sadness i have not felt alone - and amazingly even now, even as i expect that everyone will forget that i am still grappling deeply with this incredible loss, i am reminded (and for some strange reason surprised) that people have not forgotten, that i am still being held by that amazing web that i felt so strongly right before and right after my mom died. just a few examples of love i have received recently...

cj who sent me a kick ass care package which included SIX, count em SIX cds, all for the different moods that one who is grieving finds themselves in. dad who calls faithfully every weekend. lj and tim who ALSO sent a kick ass care package with delicious ginger snaps and yummy coffee. the person from mom's church who sent me a tape of mom's funeral. jenny who sent me a book of poetry. the people at my church who eagerly wanted to know this morning how last weekend's garage sale went. mom's friend who came over last weekend with food and helped us manage the crowd at the garage sale. another friend of mom's who invited us over to dinner on sunday after we had had an utterly exhausting weekend - who fed us nourishing food and then sent us promptly to bed. people who have called multiple times with offers to listen and sweet messages even when i haven't returned their calls. and those friends here in my life in philly who listen and sit with me while i cry. still.

i am aware that this process of grieving and healing has just begun and i am so grateful to feel the love of all of you so constant and strong that allows me to take my time, unhurried and sure in the knowledge that the amazing web is strong enough to hold me.

the sex columnist is always right.

2008-04-13T14:37:00.000-07:00

this is dan savage's (syndicated sex columnist) column this week. it really hit home. especially the part about his mom going into the hospital not expecting to die and so not being ready to go. and also his sense that he has been able to get through a bunch of other tough times, but this one really has him "at a loss." check it out if you haven't already in the stranger, the philly weekly, or your local weekly.

At a Loss

April 3, 2008

By Dan Savage

I thought I could bang out a column today—a regular column, a column about my readers' problems and their freaky fetishes and all those asshole politicians out there. You know, the usual.

The day my son was born, I managed to slip out of the maternity ward and write a column; I wrote one the day I was indicted by the state of Iowa for licking Gary Bauer's doorknobs. (I was actually indicted for voter fraud—on a trumped-up charge, your honor—but Bauer's knob needs all the attention it can get.) I've written columns on days that I was dumped and on the morning of 9/11. So I figured that I could bang out a column today.

I opened my laptop and started reading your letters. I love reading your letters—I do. But I couldn't get into it. I just don't have a column in me this week. I'm disappointed in myself. I write this column at Ann Landers's desk, for crying out loud, and the old lady banged out a heartbreaking, truncated column when her marriage collapsed. If Landers could bang one out under that kind of emotional strain, then I could damn well bang one out, too. Just do it, right? Just fucking do it. But I just fucking can't.

My mother died on Monday.

Perhaps a sex-advice column isn't an appropriate place to eulogize an articulate, elegant woman, a practicing Catholic named for the patron saint of hopeless causes and, perhaps consequently, a Cubs fan. I mean, really. Eulogizing my mother back here with the escort ads? So let's not think of this as a eulogy. Let's think of it as a thank-you note, the kind of nicety that my mother appreciated.

Forgive the cliché: My mom gave me so much. She gave me life, of course, and some other stuff besides: her sense of humor, her bionic bullshit detectors, her colossal sweet tooth. She also gave me—she gave all four of her children (Bill, Ed, Dan, Laura)—her unconditional love. Long after I came out, she told me she always suspected that I might be gay; I was the quiet one, the boy who liked Broadway musicals and baking cakes and shared her passion for Strauss waltzes. When I asked my parents to take me to the national tour of A Chorus Line for my 13th birthday, that should have settled the matter. Your third son? Total fag, lady. But my parents were Catholic and religious and it somehow still came as a shock when I told them. My mother came around fast and she came out swinging—rainbow stickers on her car, a PFLAG membership card in her wallet, and an ultimatum delivered to the whole family: Anyone who had a problem with me had a problem with her.

But the real reason I feel compelled to thank her in this space, back here with the escort ads, is because I wouldn't have this space if it weren't for her.

My mother, as my brother Bill likes to say, made friends like Rockefeller made money and George W. Bush makes mistakes—and she was that friend you confided in and went to for advice. I was a mama's boy—hello—and I spent a great deal of time in my mother's kitchen listening to her tell her friends exactly what they needed to do. Sometimes gently, sometimes brusquely, always with a dose of humor. My mom liked to say that her son got paid to do something that she did for free—and isn't that the way the world works? Women cook, men are chefs; women are housewives, men are butlers; she gave advice, I got paid to give advice. (And for a few years, she did too; my mother and I wrote a joint column for a couple of websites in the 1990s.)

So I want to thank my mom. I wouldn't be writing this column today if it weren't for her gifts and her ability to find the humor in even the most serious of subjects.

Even death, even her own.

After a long struggle, we had to go into my mother's hospital room and tell her that nothing more could be done. She didn't go into the hospital expecting to die and she was not ready to go. But she took the news with her characteristic grace. She said her farewells, asked us never to forget her (as if), and paused for a moment. Then Mom lifted an eyebrow, shrugged, and said...

"Shit."

My mother wasn't crude; I didn't get my foul mouth from her. She used profanity sparingly and then only in italics and quotation marks. When she said "shit" on her deathbed, we understood the joke. What she meant was this: "Now, the kind of person who casually uses profanity might be inclined to say 'shit' at a moment like this. But I'm not the kind of person who casually uses profanity—and certainly not at a moment like this. But if I were the kind of person who casually used profanity, 'shit' might be the word I would use right now. If I were that kind of person. Which I'm not."

Everyone gathered around her bed—my mother's husband (my son has two fathers and so do I), my sister, my aunt—knew what Mom wanted: She wanted us to laugh. This woman, so full of life, who wanted so badly to live, having just been told she would not, she was trying to lift our spirits. ("Shit," for the record, wasn't her last word. Those were just for the family.)

Anyway, my mom is dead, and I am not in the mood, as she used to say. ("You are so," one of us kids would usually respond. "You're in a bad mood.") So I'm going to take a week or two off, from the column and the podcast, hang out with the boyfriend and the kid, and burst into tears in coffee shops and grocery stores. I'll run some greatest hits in this space while I'm away—I'll find a column or two featuring Mom—and then I'll be back, just as filthy minded as ever. In lieu of flowers, please send pictures of your boyfriends' rear ends. (Lesbians may send flowers.) If you're the donation-making type and you're so inclined, my mother would be pleased to see some of your money flow to PFLAG (www.pflag.org) or the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation (www.pulmonaryfibrosis.org).

Oh, one last thing: I was supposed to take my mother to see the national tour of The Drowsy Chaperone in Chicago this Friday, April 11. It was her birthday present. I got us great seats: seventh row, on the aisle. But I won't be able to use our tickets now. Not because it would be too depressing to go without my mother—not just because—but because, as rotten, stinking fate would have it, I'm going to be at my mother's wake on Friday night.

But I'm practical, like Mom, and I'd hate to see perfectly good tickets to a national tour of a hit Broadway musical go to waste. And it occurs to me that there has to be a teenage boy out there—in Chicago or close enough—who likes musicals and has a mother who loves him for the little musical-theater queen that he is. If you know that boy or you are that boy or you were that boy a decade ago or if you're that boy's mother or grandmother, send me an e-mail and I'll arrange to get these tickets to you.

Like I said, they're great seats. I would go if I could. But I can't.

Shit.

mail@savagelove.net

well said Daniel

2008-04-02T18:44:00.000-07:00

m and i went to mom's house this weekend to continue the cleaning out process.i had the longest and deepest cry i've had since she died this weekend - i think having some distance, and then coming back to her house was what did it. i finally had some feelings of anger (elizabeth kubler-ross would be pleased) -why am i here to pack up mom's belongings intstead of here to visit her? it's not fair!

thanks to jenny for thirst, by mary oliver (one of my and jenny's favorite poets).

one of my favorite poems in the book so far is called Heavy.

Heavy

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying

I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had His hand in this,

as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it--
books, bricks, grief--
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled--
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?

happy birthday mom!

2008-03-25T05:45:00.000-07:00

mom would have been 63 today.
this is a picture from her 60th birthday.
let's just say that i was the designated driver.
i'll have a drink tonight for my mom!

fear

2008-03-23T18:07:00.000-07:00

And grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense.
Or like waiting; just hanging about waiting for something to happen.
It gives life a permanently provisional feeling...Up till this I always had
too little time. Now there is nothing but time.

...

I think I am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense.
It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become
habitual.

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

my mom and brother at his wedding

thanks to cj for lending me A Grief Observed.

i'm going to have to agree with C.S.L. here. grief does feel like fear.
and i am experiencing the frustration of those habitual impulses.
it's easter. on easter i call each of my parents to wish them a happy easter.
today i called my dad. and then sat in a chair in my bedroom. and moped.
because i couldn't call my mom. at least not in the conventional sense.

my mom and i haven't lived near each other since i was in high school,
so most of our communication was done on the phone. we'd call each
other when something great happened in our lives, or something we
wanted to bitch about. we'd call each other when one of us was lonely.
sometimes we'd just call to talk. before my mom was diagnosed with
multiple myeloma in august, we spoke once a week. since august 2007,
until february 10, 2008 when she died, we spoke every day, with only
a few exceptions.

it is frustrating, indeed, not to be able to call her today and wish her
a happy easter, to hear all the gossip from church, to find out how
her weekend went, to tell her about the beautiful sunrise service
at the park i went to this morning and the lovely breakfast at church
afterwards. i know she'd want to know how cold it was at the service,
how long it was, how i got there, what i made for breakfast, who i talked
to at breakfast and what i did when i left. and she'd remember to ask
me about mike, how his concussion is doing, and when his next doctor's
appointment is.

we miss you mom. happy easter.

booties

2008-03-16T19:01:00.000-07:00

this post is dedicated to jess, a true lover of booties.

i decided a little light-heartedness might be in order, after the rather heavy
post from last week. there will be plenty more sadness to come, i'm sure, so
here's something a little different.

i've been considering the things my mom enjoyed and/or did well in her life.
there are many things. one of the things she excelled in was saving things.
some might call it hoarding, or a certain tendency towards being a pack rat.
call it what you will.

one of the things i found in her house the last time we were there cleaning
things out was this.

this, my friends, is a box of handknit booties. f.pea, eat your knitting heart out.
these booties were made by mrs. kearns, a woman who lived down the street from my mom when she was a kid. the box actually has my grandmother's handwriting on it, which is even more impressive - my grandma saved them after they moved away and passed them on to my mom. i never did get the full story on why mrs. kearns made so many booties. all i can tell you is that everytime i was at my mom's house in the winter with cold feet, she'd offer me a pair.
and tell me to take them home with me. jess, who at that time was living with me instead of in lovely oaxaca, took a liking to these booties. she being one who also gets cold feet. so the next time my mom came to visit us in philly, she brought jess a few pairs. allegedly these were the last pairs in the house/that my mom owned. jess and i (yes, i got a few more pairs as well) were so happy.

so imagine my surprise when i came upon a whole box! m and i have decided that they will be the perfect thing for our new house - we'll have a basket at the front door for guests. maybe we'll even let a few booties walk off into the night...

her strength is in her principles

2008-03-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

per steve's request, here's a close up of the card.

2008-03-10T19:46:00.000-07:00

it's been a month since my mom passed away.
i miss her a lot.
this is an altar i set up for her in my bedroom.

the angel in the back is named courage.
the old woman on the card is titled "her strength is in her principles."
the ceramic tile is something that was hanging over her sink. it says,
"those who hope in the lord will renew their strength; they will run and not be weary;
they will walk and not faint. isaiah 40:31"
the cross is also something that was hanging in her house.
and the other cards are prayer cards from her funeral service.

as i continue to grieve, i will be thinking about how and what of my mom's life i want to carry on through the way i live.

where's the manual?

2008-03-03T18:10:00.000-08:00

like most big events in life, there doesn't seem to be a manual instructing the unschooled on what to do when a loved one dies. too bad i don't own a television - i hear six feet under is a pretty good education in this stuff.

when mom died, i had no idea how busy we'd be in the next week.

we scheduled the wake, funeral, and burial; chose a casket; chose the concrete box one is required to buy for the casket to go in (!); decided on a design and prose for the prayer cards; wrote her obituary and decided to only have it published on one day and in one newspaper; picked out clothes and jewelry for her to be buried in; found a new home for her cat; decided on and purchased the paper for the funeral program; planned the funeral service with her pastor; created two displays of pictures of mom for the wake and funeral; chose flowers for the top of the casket; met with a lawyer to start the (long) estate process; notified friends and family of her passing; and tried to remember to eat and sleep.

one moment, i felt perfectly fine and at peace. the next moment, feelings of deep sadness, panic, and/or exhaustion would overwhelm me. this is the way my grief continues. coming back to my "normal" life, but without mom, has been extremely difficult. i hear that this gets easier; right now it seems to be getting harder. i'm confident the grief will become something easier to understand, to grapple with, to mold and shape into something i can handle. right now mom comes to me when she will - at night, on the bus, at work, during yoga, whenever and wherever. i'm just trying to ride the waves of grief and not fight too hard against the current.

from my mom's friend corrinne

2008-03-03T18:03:00.000-08:00

here is a message from my mom's friend corrinne about walk she is doing in mom's honor...

A couple of years ago my daughter, Julie, started telling me I could/should run a marathon. After all, there were many women who were over 60 and running their first marathon. Being older and wiser I knew this just wasn't going to happen. Then in August 2007 my friend Ginny Gilbertson was diagnosed with myeloma. Julie took the opportunity to suggest that I could/should WALK a half marathon in honor of Ginny. She was getting older and wiser too since this was definitely a possibility.

So Julie found the Country Music marathon/half marathon to be run and WALKED in Nashville on April 26, 2008 and I could train with Team in Training. For those of you who don't know, TNT is associated with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society who Julie used to work for and who trained her to run her first marathon several years ago.

Last November when I visited Ginny and mutual college friends in Albany, NY, I studied with her the info from the Leukemia Society about the drugs she had begun taking and we both learned about her disease. I saw how grateful she was to have been contacted by people from the Society, including the buddy she was paired with. I saw the pain she was already beginning to endure. I saw her sitting in her dialysis chair for 4 hour stints. I told myself I didn't want my current health issues to take over and put me that situation so I committed to walk this half marathon for her and for me. It seemed like a win win situation to me.

Last December 28 I met Ginny at the Tampa airport where her son, Andy, who lives in St. Petersburg, pushed her in a wheelchair because already her back pain was so great she couldn't walk long distances. We drove down to Venice where Ginny had a condo next door to the condo of another Albany friend and we spent several days by the pool (and hours at the dialysis center) and saw the New Year in with much laughter and loving friendship. We both returned to our colder climates, she to her dialysis/chemo/pain coping routine, me to my training and regular work routine.

On January 28 Ginny went to the hospital with severe back pain and paralysis in her legs. The dialysis wasn't working to clean her system. Her heart wasn't behaving. Her children, Sue and Andy, and their mates came to be with her and her Albany friends kept vigil. She spoke with her pastor. On February 10 Ginny left this world for the next with Sue and Mike, Andy and Bonnie, and dear friend Anne by her side in a peaceful Hospice room at St Peters Hospital. We will miss her greatly. Less than 6 months from diagnosis to her passing; this should not happen to anybody.

I am walking this half marathon in Nashville on April 26 in memory of Ginny, and have pledged to raise $3000 for the Leukemia Society to help find a cure for myeloma and to give comfort to families and patients with this and other blood cancers. Please help me by donating whatever you can to this wonderful organization. My website to receive donations is www.active.com/donate/tntnca04/walking4hope.

p.s.

2008-03-03T17:39:00.000-08:00

i can't believe in my last post i forgot to mention the amazing homemade ginger snaps and tofu spinach pie. it's only because as soon as we got back from the funeral and burial we ate them all while watching a project runway marathon. i know everyone handles grief differently, but i highly recommend tofu spinach pie and project runway.

"people are SO nice"

2008-02-24T17:51:00.001-08:00

for the last two weeks i have uttered some version of "people are SO nice, this is crazy. i can't believe it" countless times. i'm going to try to give you a snapshot of the overwhelming generosity i and my family have been the recipient of lately.

people have cooked/baked/brought amazing quantities of food including the best brownies i have ever eaten in my life, baked root vegetables, vegetarian chili, a fruit bouquet, a fruit basket, a complete valentine's day dinner including fettucini alfredo, ceasar salad, wine, and a (prepare yourself-morbid humor coming) to-die-for chocolate cake, cheese and crackers, beans and greens soup, pizza, cherry pie, foccaccia, carrot salad, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and bags of groceries. as if this wasn't enough, i've also been treated to dinner out. and coffee.

i have also received a cd with calming music, a massage gift certificate and flowers delivered to my home in philly. the thoughtful, heartfelt sympathy cards just keep coming. many, many people made donations in my mom's name to the committee at her church that works with refugees (which she did for many years).

at the wake and the funeral, we asked people to write down a story or memory they had of mom. many people shared hilarious and/or touching stories about times they had shared with mom. and lots of hugs. lots of phone calls. my cell phone bill is usually $60. this month? $281! i mean lots of phone calls. and don't get me started on flowers. gorgeous arrangements. and plants. and friends who made time in their schedule to travel to albany to support me at and after the funeral.

and then there are the all the many acts of kindness done during the last weeks of my mom's life. mom's friends who came to her house to clean, to make sure she was eating, and who did her errands. mom's church family who drove her to doctor's appointments. the friends who responded when the lifeline service called them to tell them mom was in trouble. the friends who called me to let me know mom's condition was worsening. my childhood friend, who is going through chemo herself, who came over to the house and made me laugh for a few hours. the friend who came to relieve me in the morning at the hospital after i had spent the night. the friend who, when we were trying to find a place for mom to go to rehab, called everyone she knew to figure out which places were good and which we should avoid. friends back in philly who organized themselves to make sure i had someone to talk to and cry with each night while i was with mom. the nurses who held mom's hand, hugged her, comforted her, and took excellent care of her. the techs who lovingly bathed mom. the transportation aides who gently moved mom around the hospital. the social workers who helped mom to understand and process what was happening to her. friends who came for visits and handled mom's hallucinations with grace. the staff at the hospice inn who gave us so much privacy during mom's last hours and then so many hugs after she passed.

I have felt a great deal of support. Two different friends sent me emails with images of the support they were hoping I had – one was of feeling the wind at my back, that I could get through this not solely by my own power, but rather by a feeling of being sustained and carried by the support around me. The other envisioned lots of pillows put all around me by friends so if (when!) I needed to fall down, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Both of these ring true. I thank all of you.

back to blogging

2008-02-19T18:41:00.001-08:00

everything has changed since the last time i posted.

i remember in high school, after my grandfather died, reflecting on how i'd survive without my mom. my mom in particular, and moms in general, are central. if you're lucky, your mom is the person you call when you have a miserable flu and need to be comforted. your mom is the person you want to tell first when you find the love of your life, or are pregnant, or get a promotion. your mom is the one you call when you have that knitting, sewing, home repair, cleaning, parenting, relationship, or, in my mom's case, training question that you know she'll know the answer to.

moms are where we all come from. in most cases, moms have some (and most of the time A LOT) part in bringing us up to be the intelligent, caring people we are. we owe a lot to our moms.

my mom passed away on february 10th, 2008 at 6:45pm. her death certificate says 7:01pm, but i know better because i was there when she took her last breath. i'm hoping to use this space to share some of the experiences i had directly before and directly after her passing.

here is a picture of her and i celebrating her 60th birthday. she died at age 62.

san francisco

2007-11-04T15:23:00.001-08:00

recently returned from a much needed vacation to san francisco, where m and i lived for 4 1/2 years before moving to philly.

here is m on ocean beach, where i took a long nap within 4 hours of touching down in the city.

here is the antiwar march, which ended in dolores park.

and here is a group of people participating in the first annual "thrill the world" contest. they are part of a worldwide effort to break the guinness world record for largest simultaneous dance. they're dancing to michael jackson's thriller.

san francisco has a warm place in my heart for many reasons, including osento, little otsu, burritos, this guy, and this guy (both guys were at the antiwar march), and our wonderful friends who hosted us with warmth and style.

that said, i love our new home. we took a riverloop boat tour and i snapped this photo while floating down the schuylkill.

2007-10-02T20:14:00.000-07:00

I Know the Way You Can Get

I know the way you can get
When you have not had a drink of Love:

Your face hardens,
Your sweet muscles cramp.
Children become concerned
About a strange look that appears in your eyes
Which even begins to worry your own mirror
And nose.

Squirrels and birds sense your sadness
And call an important conference in a tall tree.
They decide which secret code to chant
To help your mind and soul.

Even angels fear that brand of madness
That arrays itself against the world
And throws sharp stones and spears into
The innocent
And into one's self.

O I know the way you can get
If you have not been drinking Love:

You might rip apart
Every sentence your friends and teachers say,
Looking for hidden clauses.

You might weigh every word on a scale
Like a dead fish.

You might pull out a ruler to measure
From every angle in your darkness
The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once
Trusted.

I know the way you can get
If you have not had a drink from Love's
Hands.

...

That is why Hafiz says:
Bring your cup near me.

...

Dear one,
Indeed, please bring your heart near me.
For all I care about
Is quenching your thirst for freedom!

All a Sane man can ever care about
Is giving Love!

From: 'I Heard God Laughing - Renderings of Hafiz'
Daniel Ladinsky

A moment ago before I found this poem
in my inbox I was feeling really grumpy
and mad.  I arrived at the train station
to retrieve my bike and bike home only to
find that my bike was missing a wheel.
This, on top of having an obscenely long day
made me want to a) have a temper tantrum
b) cry c) move out of the city d) hate Philly.
But then I read this poem and with some gentle
reminders from M ringing in my ears, I remembered
that today I have had many drinks of love - not
least of which was the realization that I had
lots of offers of practical help and support
when I put out the distress call about my bike.
It is lovely to realize that you have a community
of people who are willing to make late-night
sacrifices for you.

And, I was returning to get my bike from an awesome
fundraiser for Girl's Leadership Camp, an organization
that I am on the Advisory Board for. I was awed by the
amount of excitement and support folks had for the idea
of an all-girls, affordable, sleepaway camp for Philly
girls, and that people were willing to financially 
support us. When I added up how much we made, it
symbolized for me what can happen when people really
believe in something- that passion can be contagious
and can generate needed gifts.

jena 6

2007-09-30T17:42:00.001-07:00

this weekend i had my first letter to the editor of the philadelphia inquirer published.
i was responding to this guy's racist and infuriating letter. of course my letter was edited down a lot, but you can still get the gist.
__________________________________________________________________
Here's my letter, which was published on Saturday:

I was saddened to read "The real victim in Jena is white," (letter, Sept. 24). The letter is a reminder that ignorance and racism exist even in a big city, not just in a small Southern town.

The writer says the uproar over the arrest of the "Jena Six" "has white people shaking our heads" and that the "real victim" is the white student.

I am white, and the author does not speak for me. Nor does he speak for my white family members, my white friends, or the white members of my church. He is right about one thing: The white people I know are "shaking our heads." We're shaking our heads in disgust and outrage at the persistence of racism in our criminal "justice" system.
___________________________________________________________________

For more information on the Jena 6 case, check Color of Change or
Free the Jena 6.

where i've been

2007-09-30T17:35:00.000-07:00

hi faithful readers,

i apologize for my long absence.
both of my parents were recently hospitalized. my mom had a life-threatening medical event, and is still recovering at home. so i've been otherwise occupied but missing this space and dialogue with you all.

i can't promise i'll be posting often but will try to drop by on a more regular basis. for those of you who are not already email subscribers, feel free to sign up (top right corner where it says "subscribe to gloveandherspecialsauce by email") so you don't have to stop by to know when i've posted.

thanks to all of you who have emailed and sent cards and called and sent food and given hugs. you are appreciated.

red hot

2007-08-02T17:49:00.000-07:00

thanks for all your responses via email (and ms. pea and jen who left comments here) to my last post. not surprisingly, many of you had strong feelings and smart ideas on the topic and i really appreciate you sharing them with me!

it's 9pm and 88 degrees out.

this morning i had to do a workshop for a group of youth. it turns out that they were much younger than my usual crowd - i found myself in a very comfy, broken arm chair with a circle of 12 nine-year-olds sitting in a circle on a rug around me. they were supposed to go on a really cool field trip, but because the program had forgotten and then remembered that i was coming, the youth ended up not going on the trip and instead had to listen to ... me. talk about ... domestic violence. yeah. sounds rough right? well, these kids were so incredibly thoughtful and polite and smart that when, after a really great 25 minute conversation, they started rolling around on the rug and giggling, i figured i was in the clear to cut my hour presentation to 25 minutes.

i escaped unscathed out into the blazing sun to wait for a bus. miraculously (if you've never experienced SEPTA just take my word for it that it was a miracle), the bus arrived within 2 minutes. i got on the bus for a short trip to the train station. i descended into the urine-smelling, muggy station and found a seat. another miracle. the train pulled into the station no longer than 5 minutes later. at my station, i slowly moved up the stairs back into the blazing sun only to see - my bus! waiting at the corner for me! what could have been a slow, hot hour long trip took 20 blessedly air conditioned minutes.

there is clearly a god.

and then, at work, after eating a deliciously bad lunch (we're talking milkshake and mozzerrella sticks here) i was suffering from a pretty serious food coma. and then my friend and co-worker who works at a different site and who i never see and miss, stopped by. she was in the building for a meeting and immediately offered me some of her coffee. manna from heaven.

isn't it amazing how small surprises/coincidence/blessings (call them what you will) can make you feel on top of the world?

(photo credit)

name changes

2007-07-18T16:40:00.000-07:00

sorry for my long absence. an absence of air conditioning and a reliable internet connection have kept me away.

today i received the annual report of the alternatives to marriage project, an organization that advocates "for equality and fairness for unmarried people, including people who are single, who choose not to marry, cannot marry, or live together before marriage." alternatives to marriage project is one of the few organizations i give financial support to on a regular basis.

but today i'm not going to write about discrimination against unmarried people. instead i'm going to tell you about one (of many) of the bureaucratic/legal parts of marriage that make me glad i chose a different path. the feminist majority foundation reports that only six states allow men to take their wives last names on the marriage application. men can go through the process that anyone uses if they want to make a legal name change, but this is much more expensive than just doing it on the marriage application.

i believe in the power of naming. that names can signify togetherness, bonds, commitment, love, a familial relationship. names can also give a sense of identity, and when taken away feel like a loss of identity. so why is it that heterosexual couples are often brow beaten into a decision which means the wife takes the husband's last name? there are many reasons why a couple might choose to share the wife's last name instead of the husband's. i think hyphenation is a great short-term solution. but what if your child grows up and gets married? what if they get married to another person with a hyphenated last name?

if anyone has thoughts on the matter of naming, i'd love to hear them. leave me a comment or send me an email. if you are married or partnered, how did you make your decision?
i'll be back after i return from my long awaited vacation.

road trip, part III

2007-06-13T12:30:00.000-07:00

i'm not really a sports person.
i can't follow most games, and don't have the energy or interest to keep tabs on any particular team.

i do, however, really enjoy going to baseball games.
while mike and i were in the bay area, i got hooked on really cheap seats at a's games.
as part of my commitment to making philly my home, i've started going to phillies games.

the thing is, baseball is 1) easy to follow and understand and 2) not particularly aggressive or violent. both of these things appeal to me.
going to baseball games means hours of 1) enjoying beautiful summer weather 2) eating garlic fries 3) socializing with friends. who can argue with this?

we went to an a's vs. oriole's game on our road trip. here's some pics from the game and the awesome fireworks afterwards. thanks hiram for hooking us up with great seats!

road trip, part II

2007-06-03T15:04:00.000-07:00

babies i fell in love with on this trip...
this is my friend kg's baby.
as you can see, he's a busy guy.
eating fresh pasta his fabulous parents just made.
making phone calls.
smiling at new people and giggling for his mom.

this is sophia. she's also a busy baby. here she's exploring her feminine side - holding my purse and grabbing my earrings and generally being charming. that's her dad in the picture to the left and her grandad on the right.
i love watching people i care about parent. i give a big shout out to all my friends who are parenting with amazing patience, grace, humor, thoughtfulness, bravery, and love.

road trip, part I

2007-06-01T17:28:00.000-07:00

back in philly after a rejuvenating, relaxing road trip.
i have lots of stories and a few pictures to share, so i thought i'd give you a report back over the next few days and posts.

my first few stories revolve around signs.

on our way to visit friends in lynchburg, virginia (what a horrible name for a town!) we passed many businesses with signs such as "our prayers are with the falwell family" and "god bless jerry falwell." for those of you who are not familiar with mr. falwell, he is the founder of the moral majority and was a major force on the reactionary right who founded liberty university, near lynchburg. he was a sexist, racist, homophobic bigot. these signs reminded me that i was no longer at home. my circles tended to react to falwell's death with more of this kind of sentiment than pure, unadulterated sympathy.

after leaving lynchburg, VA we had a long drive to hilton head, SC. i was awed and grateful for the many beautiful patches of wildflowers growing in the median of the highway. while craning my neck to get a better look, i caught a sign that let me know that i could thank NCDOT's Wildflower Program for these wonderful bursts of color in the middle of the highway. i didn't get pictures of the more beautiful patches because i was just smiling and laughing and enjoying them, and then they were gone. but here's one i did get. it amazes me how much simple joy flowers can bring.

we finished our trip with a visit to f.pea and grady in raleigh, NC. f.pea had suggested that we meet up at neomonde, a bakery/cafe with mediterranean food. mike and i couldn't find the place, so stopped at a wafflehouse to ask directions. four employees and one customer politely informed us that they had never even HEARD of this restaurant. we called f.pea. it turns out that the restaurant was RIGHT BEHIND wafflehouse, only hidden by some trees and a railroad track. isn't it funny how we all have our routine, our favorite places to gather and eat, and how easy it is to be ignorant of those places and people outside our usual circles? this incident reminded me that there are amazing surprises right under my nose if i can open my eyes.

summer blessings

2007-05-24T16:27:00.000-07:00

I would like to write a poem about the world that has in it
nothing fancy.
But it seems impossible.
Whatever the subject, the morning sun
glimmers it.
The tulip feels the heat and flaps its petals open
and becomes a star.
The ants bore into the peony bud and there is the dark
pinprick well of sweetness.
As for the stones on the beach, forget it.
Each one could be set in gold.
So I tried with my eyes shut, but of course the birds
were singing.
And the aspen trees were shaking the sweetest music
out of their leaves.
And that was followed by, guess what, a momentous and
beautiful silence
as comes to all of us, in little earfuls, if we’re not too
hurried to hear it.
As for spiders, how the dew hangs in their webs
even if they say nothing, or seem to say nothing,
So fancy is the world, who knows, maybe they sing,
So fancy is the world, who knows, maybe the stars sing too,
and the ants, and the peonies, and the warm stones,
So happy to be where they are, on the beach, instead of being
locked up in gold.

-- Mary Oliver

Things I am grateful for tonight:

I am lucky enough to be on vacation! We are leaving tomorrow to take a road trip to visit friends whom we rarely see because we tend to go north not south on our wanderings. Over the next five days we will be visiting friends in Falls Church, VA, Alexandria, VA, Charlottesville, VA, Lynchburg, VA, and Raleigh, NC. We'll also be spending a few days relaxing in Hilton Head, SC.

The weather is perfect. I'm leaving for a road trip tomorrow morning with my sweetheart. I will be away from the office for five days. I just ate two delicious slices of homemade sourdough bread (thanks Alanna!). I did a presentation today with Mike for the first time ever - and it was a success! We presented to a group of legal aid lawyers/workers on how to do "fun and effective community education" at their statewide conference. Last night I sat outside at the hotel the conference was at and drank a glass of red wine and enjoyed the lovely night breeze. Today I took a nap by the river in Harrisburg (where the conference was). Today walking home from the train station we ran into some neighbors who were reminscing about how the neighborhood used to be - they have both lived in the neighborhood for over 40 years. Today I heard Jonathon Kozol speak and was reinspired to work on the racism and segregation that plague our schools.

I will be back here in a week with pictures and stories from our trip. Until then, I hope you all are enjoying your own summer blessings.

at long last

2007-05-16T17:58:00.000-07:00

i have a moment and some energy to sit down and blog.
sorry for the long absence!

i thought i'd share some of what i've been up to...both the good and the not-so-good.
a lot of the last few weeks has been spent in sadness. two co-workers are going through incredibly hard times - one recently lost her six month old baby and the other is struggling with advancing cancer and a terribly unjust health system that would not approve the surgery that she desperately needs. luckily she is a domestic violence advocate, so has the skills to advocate for herself. she appealed the insurance company's decision to not pay for the surgery and ... she won! she'll be having the surgery at the end of the month. that is at least some small solace.

on a brighter note, i had the opportunity to be a part of the student's constitutional rights institute, a project of the american civil liberties union PA that brings together students to explore the role of the law in LGBT people's lives. the students participated in a mock supreme court argument using a real case from florida in which a gay couple were denied the right to adopt an HIV-positive child who they had been caring for for many years as a foster child. the students were absolutely brilliant - they were thinking critically, making smart arguments, and all the while doing it with a sense of humor and wit that i often find hard to maintain in the face of such oppression and prejudice. it was really amazing to see in these LGBT youth and their allies the next generation of leaders in the movement fighting for equal rights for LGBT people.

the weather has turned lovely in philly. this has meant trips to phillies games and discovering that there is national park right outside of the city! it's called the John Heinz National Wildlife Refuge. the refuge is home to over 300 species of birds.

on one recent warm sunday afternoon i headed out to art buggy. art buggy is a competition in which participants create a buggy using recycled (or new) materials that must be 1) fast and 2) create a piece of art when the buggy is pushed. as the website says, "The art should capture a record of the journey through mark making." poetic, huh? buggys are paired together and put to the test in heats. in a buggy derby. quite
fabulous and fantastic. here are some pictures so you can get a sense of the creativity and fun
that ensued...

dangerous visions

2007-04-25T18:52:00.000-07:00

i love the sun magazine. it's sometimes inspiring, often sappy, and always (at least in part) depressing. but it's also well written and in every issue i find a nugget (or two, or three) of truth.

the latest issue has an interview with irish poet and philosopher john o'donohue.

i wanted to share with you one nugget of truth about relationships from o'donohue that i thought was beautifully said:

There is a way in which we treat our relationships almost like a colonial expedition: we want to colonize the space, all the territory in between, until there is no wilderness left. Most couples who have deadened in each other's presence have colonized their space this way. They have domesticated each other beyond recognition. Sometimes you see a beautiful woman who quickens your heart. Then you meet her again years later, and she has become a domesticated relic of who she once was, and you think, Where is the dangerous vision that I saw in her? The same happens to men.

I think it is more interesting to be with somebody who still has his or her wilderness territory -- and by that I don't mean bleak, burned-out, damaged areas where wounding has occurred; rather, I mean genuine wilderness. Upon seeing that in the other person, you promise yourself: One thing I will never do is try to domesticate her wilderness. Because the authenticity of her difference and the purity of her danger and the depth of her affection are all being secretly nourished by that wilderness, as all of my spirit is being nourished by my own wilderness.

John O'Donohue in "The Unseen Life that Dreams Us," The Sun Magazine April 2007

kick ass little girl responds to monsters

2007-04-15T18:43:00.000-07:00

watch the video. she rocks.

spring has sprung on locust street!

2007-04-15T15:33:00.000-07:00

everywhere i look out my bedroom windows spring has arrived. it's glorious.
who cares if snow is in the forecast for tomorrow?

update on bush's family planning appointee

2007-04-08T17:48:00.000-07:00

just a short note to share some good news...
on november 30th i told you about eric keroack, bush's family planning appointee to health and human services who is anti-choice and anti-birth control.

well, just four months later, he has resigned! hooray!

in other news...there is a new "movement" afoot called generation life.

this is a group of youth who are committing themselves to remaining virgins until they are married. they also come out and intimidate the patients at the abortion clinic where i volunteer.
if you need any proof that the abstinence-until-marriage folks are operating from a misogynistic, patriarchal viewpoint, just check out this page of the gen life website.

some of my favorites:

"A Real Woman...Loves babies and nurtures her family. She is the heart of her home, finds strength in her husband, understands sacrificial love and is happy and content."
"How Far is Too Far?... Wrong question! The question that you should be asking is: 'How far can I go to respect and honor my date, leading him to purity?' ...Guys are stimulated differently than girls. Open mouth kissing will lead a guy to become sexually aroused but a girl will simply feel more affection towards him. Knowing how far to go means understanding that guys have a higher sex drive and girls have a higher love drive." (my emphasis)
And Masturbation..."Though it may be fueled by our culture, masturbation is essentially a selfish act. To combat it, try to remember to be generous and charitable toward others. This will help stop the selfish attitude. Smile to others. Stop gossiping. Stay away from romance novels."

this is so old school it's hardly surprising. and yet, still so maddening.
i don't have words for how sad it is that a new generation of women is getting taught this bullshit.