tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27186041124542570372024-03-12T19:52:46.853-07:00Graceful Transitionslaughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.comBlogger173125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-50423709149864632832016-12-02T21:47:00.001-08:002016-12-02T21:47:07.038-08:0030 days of gratitude, the power of the wordDay 2: A friend of mine shared this gutwrenching poem on Facebook this morning. And after verifying with the author that I could share it publicly... today's moment of gratitude was for the strength of this woman through the days, and the power in the word.<br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />November 14th.<br />In the coffee shop,<br />the man in the<br />Make America Great Again hat<br />smiles at me, so I take this<br />as an invitation.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />“Pardon me, but I have to ask—<br />do you think Trump’s<br />ideologies keep every person<br />in this country safe?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />He doesn’t hesitate.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />“Ma’am, I can’t get wrapped up<br />in identity politics, all I can<br />worry about is how<br />I’m going to feed my girls.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />At my 40th birthday party,<br />an acquaintance asks<br />why we have “so much<br />Mexican art in the house.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">“It might be because I’m Mexican,” I say.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">“No,” he laughs, “you’re not Mexican."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">“Yes. I am.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">"No," he continues, reassuringly,<br />“and if you are, you’re only, maybe, 17%."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">The winter air stiffens between us.<br />An old, familiar pain.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />There was a time when I<br />would have thanked him.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />The early years,<br />when I wanted only to pass,<br />to rid myself of my last name—<br />the dead giveaway,<br />its muddy lineage</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />crawl out from the burying shame<br />that held me down every time<br />my father picked me up<br />from school in our shitty car,<br />his bushy mustache<br />& brown face<br />magnified by the sun.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />A local white woman<br />posts a photo of her new tattoo:<br />a Mayan god etched eternal<br />on her flesh. When I point out<br />the disrespect, she assures me<br />she speaks Spanish fluently,<br />spent three years<br />in South America.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />For the next six hours,<br />I argue with her friends.<br />They demand I quit being so<br />divisive. Judgemental. Close-minded.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />“We have a racist running for President,<br />and you’re complaining about a tattoo?”<br />asks the white boy, who spray paints<br />murals all over this city<br />with impunity.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />O, to be permitted the luxury<br />of only worrying about one thing at a time.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />O, to be white in America,<br />to wake up knowing every god is your god.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />When you never see yourself,<br />you search for yourself all the time.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />You know the white girl<br />in the sombrero isn’t you.<br />The bro dude in Calavera makeup<br />isn’t either, not the ponchos<br />and glued on mustaches,<br />not the lowrider Chevy<br />in the Disney movie<br />or the hoochie-coochie<br />sex pot on the Emmy<br />award-winning television show.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />Maybe you are only this:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />the scorched bird pulled<br />from the chimney,<br />covered in soot.<br />Not the actual bird,<br />its velvet sack<br />of jigsaw’d bones,<br />but the feeling<br />of recognition.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />The ash of knowing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />A white comedian tells this joke:<br />“I used to date Hispanics,<br />but now I prefer consensual.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />The audience laughs.<br />And you do, too.<br />Until the punchline hardens,<br />translates into a stone<br />in your throat.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />You swallow it, like you always do.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />You don’t change the channel,<br />but you also can’t remember<br />a single joke she tells after that.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />A few months later, the comedian's career<br />blows up. She’s so real. So edgy.<br />Such a hardcore feminist.<br />When someone writes an essay on<br />her old stand-up routines—<br />noting her blindspot when it comes to race,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />her response is:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />“It is a joke and it is funny.<br />I know that because people laugh at it.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />If two Mexicans are in a car, who is driving?<br />A police officer.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />How do you starve a Mexican?<br />Put their food stamps in their work boots.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What’s the difference between a Mexican and an elevator?<br />One can raise a child.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What do you call a Mexican baptism?<br />Bean dip</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />How do you stop a Mexican from robbing your house?<br />Put a help wanted sign in the window.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What do you call a Mexican driving a BMW?<br />Grand theft auto</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What do you call a Mexican without a lawnmower?<br />Unemployed</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What do you call a building full of Mexicans?<br />Jail</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />How do you keep Mexicans from stealing?<br />Put everything of value on the top shelf.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What do you call a bunch of Mexicans running downhill?<br />A mudslide.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />Why don’t Mexicans play Hide ’n Seek?<br />No one will look for them.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What does a Mexican get for Christmas?<br />Your TV.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />What do you call the Arizona man shot to death<br />by his white neighbor, screaming, “Go back to Mexico!”<br />Juan Varela</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />November 29th.<br />For weeks, I’ve avoided<br />eye contact with strangers.<br />My face is a closed curtain.<br />My mouth, the most<br />decorated knife.<br />I pay for groceries,<br />grab the receipt &<br />let my half-hearted<br />thank yous trail like smoke.<br />I no longer want to see<br />who refuses to see me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />Anyone is everyone.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />///</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />December 1st.<br />I keep waking up.<br />There isn’t anyone<br />white enough to stop me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />Pantomime the living until<br />the body remembers:<br />wicked bitch. Bloodwhirl.<br />Patron Saint of the Grab Back.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />Still. Still. Still. Still. Still. Still here.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br />I etch my own face upon my wicked flesh.<br />I am my own devastating god.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">- Rachel McKibbens, published December 1, 2016</span></div>
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___________</div>
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Day 2: Fighting the good fight: http://www.feedingamerica.org/ Support your local food bank. Hunger in America is real. </div>
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laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-55324821316880202692016-12-01T21:31:00.000-08:002016-12-02T21:31:24.006-08:0030 days of gratitude, another year and outrageI didn't finish last year's 30 days of Gratitude. A year later, I step back to this space. <a href="http://blessherheart.typepad.com/bless_her_heart/2016/11/30-days-with-a-grateful-heart-2016-a-quiet-invitation.html">Jote's 30 Days </a> always makes me think,, makes me reflect. I let this blog founder for the year, despite so many stories to tell. The stories aren't necessarily relevant to anyone but me, anyway. And so many other things eat my time and my energy and often falling on the sofa with a novel seems like the best way to end an evening.<br />
<br />
Jote's invitation this year was the invocation I needed. Because I am so angry and so despairing and so fundamentally sad about what the election says about where we're going and who we as a nation are and have chosen to be. And I'm a lucky one. I'm a white woman in a progressive state.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if I can play along properly. I'm not sure if I can really find the gratitude within myself. I'm hoping that this will force me to, though.<br />
<br />
Day 1: Shared outrage. That I'm not alone.<br />
<br />
And also picking up Jote's lead: people fighting the good fight. I'm going to highlight in each of these blogposts, someone I think is doing something worthwhile in the world. It may be a charity, it may be an individual, it may be a corporation. It might be largescale, it might be a small kindness. If you like it, pass along the URL or pay it forward.<br />
<br />
Day 1: www.Patagonia.com -- yep, it's a clothing company. But it's a clothing company that has made a point of trying to be ethical and to be a reasonable steward on this earth. This year, they announced that 100% of their Black Friday sales would be donated to environmental charities. I #optedoutside instead, but I was amazed to read that they'd done $10MILLION in sales, rather than an anticipated $1-2 million. And that they were following through.<br />
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<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-52195808023430795132015-12-11T21:47:00.000-08:002015-12-13T22:06:59.888-08:0030 days of gratitude, day 11: those old familiar ragsI have a backlog of posts that will eventually appear, once I double-check spelling and grammar and have a few minutes to breathe. But tonight...<br />
<br />
It's a Friday evening; so many things to be grateful for on this quiet evening at home. I've pulled on my favorite pair of sweatpants, nearly worn thin after 23 years of use. I remember buying them in college, sometime in the fall of 1992. The elastic waistband's failed; the fabric's disintegrating. El Bandito keeps trying to convince me to discard them, and if I were moving somewhere, if drawer space were really an issue, or hell, if I was assessing them realistically instead of sentimentally... they'd be gone.<br />
<br />
But they're comfortable. Easing into your own skin comfortable. I've got a sweatshirt I inherited from S. that has the same ripped, disintegrating, and yet... home-ishness. For years, I had a pair of jeans that I borrowed from <a href="http://blessherheart.typepad.com/">Jote</a> on one of our last shared days of college and never had a chance to return. Banana Republic, way back then They were close to a perfect fit, already broken-in. I did try to give them back, but we'd gone on separate paths and didn't reconnect for a while. Eventually, they disintegrated, as well-worn and well-loved jeans do, and when not only the knees, but the butt and the inseams ripped... I had to admit they were done, as much as it kind of hurt to do so. It was not only the memories of many days across several years, but the association with a friend who replaced my champagne-sodden pants with clean, dry jeans and a perfect understanding...<br />
<br />
These sweatpants... I should admit they're done too. But they're a comfort, a reminder of time past, and when they really won't stay up anymore, even with the drawstring knotted... I'll say goodbye, and the next pair, I'm sure I'll say "they don't make 'em like they used to", though they may last just as long in just as disreputable condition. That's not the point.<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-78192213488343094692015-12-03T17:27:00.000-08:002015-12-13T17:27:33.496-08:0030 days of gratitude, day 3Sports medicine.<br />
I don't know at one point I realized I was an athlete, but I have come to accept it as true. <br />
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I haven't actually had that many injuries as an adult, but the ones I've had have been doozies. Torn shoulder ligament, grade 2-3 ankle sprain and high ankle sprains.<br />
<br />
And now, the reminder of my youth -- the osteoarthritis that was predicted in my teens from the damaged knees has made itself known.<br />
<br />
I've been working on strengthening and stabilizing the more-affected knee in physical therapy, and that's helped.<br />
<br />
But going to sports medicine specialists? They get it. They understand that it's not a matter of *not* doing something, it's figuring out how to minimize pain and damage as a consequence.<br />
<br />
They think this circus stuff is crazy, and that running is... probably not the optimal activity for me... but they're helping reduce the pain and make it easier for me to do the things I love.<br />
<br />
laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-72508361516177734462015-12-02T23:20:00.000-08:002015-12-13T17:16:47.502-08:0030 days of gratitude: day 2, TK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9kD7SvGyHtM/Vm4SjEo8FAI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ZxfX3BX7K90/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9kD7SvGyHtM/Vm4SjEo8FAI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ZxfX3BX7K90/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
This isn't, despite the photo, specifically a post about circus, and the gratitude I have for all that it's brought to my life.<br />
<br />
It's about the sheer joy I have seeing this woman, friend and travel companion extraordinaire, back on the trapeze after 11 months of rehabbing an injury.<br />
<br />
I know, from my own history of injuries, just how hard it is to be patient. Or how easy it is to think about just giving it up. <br />
<br />
She has an ear-to-ear grin when she's in the air, and I am so happy for her return. She's not ready to rejoin me as a doubles-partner yet, but hopefully that will come eventually. In the meantime, I get to enjoy her love for the trapeze and her thrill at being back.<br />
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<a href="http://gracefultransitions.blogspot.com/2014/12/tk-gratitude-day-13.html">(see also, last year, day 13)</a>laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-3364521573012471582015-12-01T23:20:00.000-08:002015-12-05T19:49:09.958-08:0030 days of Gratitude: Day 1. Remembrance.A year later, I step back to this space. <a href="http://blessherheart.typepad.com/bless_her_heart/2015/11/30-days-with-a-grateful-heart-2015-wanna-play.html">Jote's 30 Days </a> always makes me think, and I love seeing how the idea has <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/-t8B86S9XUCA-NrN7iXFyDKInJy-pY_79ko4o0/?taken-by=melisaangelone">spread</a> amongst my friends. I let this blog founder for the year, despite so many stories to tell.<br />
<br />
But this... I could do this project on instagram, or even Facebook, but I like separating it a little from the fleeting nature of those forums. Even if this is neglected, less written in, less read... it's also a little more present.<br />
<br />
Today's World AIDS Day, and it breaks my heart that we need such a designation. We've come so far. It's not like the bleak early days when it was "the gay plague", not like the late years of high school and early college days when it felt like friends and friends of friends were dying too often, too quickly, too young. But just because it's not ... I was about to say, because it's not in my current circle of friends, family and acquaintances... but now, it's so much more manageable that it may well still be present and just not really discussed.<br />
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More manageable. Still deadly. Still heartbreaking. It's a day that I remember those young lives cut short, those fresh faces of my own youth, and applaud the people who remain activists in some <a href="http://www.tofighthiv.org/site/TR/Events/AIDSLifeCycleCenter?px=2685558&pg=personal&fr_id=1880">form</a> or <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/26633769">another</a>.<br />
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And it's for them, and for the remembrances, that I'm grateful on this first day of December. laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-29876576493467226972014-12-22T19:29:00.000-08:002014-12-22T19:29:04.929-08:00gratitude, day 22.That I am married to the kind of guy who will share his umbrella with a stranger at the bus stop.<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-84362552121624507482014-12-20T19:11:00.001-08:002014-12-20T19:11:47.527-08:00Gratitude, Day 20<br />... that so much, big and small, of the last 5-10 years of my life can be summed up with "I had planned to ________, but I trained circus instead." <br />
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<i>Damn everything but the circus! <br /><br />...damn everything that is grim, dull, <br />motionless, unrisking, inward turning, <br />damn everything that won't get into the <br />circle, that won't enjoy, that won't throw <br />its heart into the tension, surprise, fear <br />and delight of the circus, the round <br />world, the full existence... </i><br />
<br />
<i>- e.e. cummings</i><br />
<i> </i>laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-24109041692595236252014-12-13T19:20:00.000-08:002014-12-23T19:22:39.434-08:00tk (gratitude day 13)for a friend, a travel companion, a cat-sitter extraordinaire, a drinking pal, a trapeze partner.<br />
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and this. the reason we do these crazy things, hanging from each other's hands. The grace. The bringing in to being.<br />
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We talked about the fact...</h2>
by <a href="http://writersalmanac.org/author.php?auth_id=1648&elq=44cf825f2d8944f5a60f0c6c7e62cdc0&elqCampaignId=5794" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Robert Lax</a></div>
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We talked about the fact that<br />it wasn't the danger,<br />it wasn't the skill,<br />it wasn't the applause<br />that made the act what it was.<br />It was principally the grace;<br />the bringing into being,<br />for a moment,<br />the beautiful thing,<br />the somersault,<br />the leap,<br />the entrechat on horseback.<br />The skill,<br />of course, has something to do<br />with it. It is pleasant<br />to know you can do anything<br />so difficult. It is good when you<br />have mastered it, and you are<br />really in competition with yourself.<br /><br />"When we make a mistake in<br />the ring we are very angry. The<br />audience doesn't know, but we<br />know."<br /><br />But it is a pleasure<br />to do anything<br />so difficult<br />and do it<br />gracefully.<br />
"We talked about the fact..." by Robert Lax from <em><span class="il">Circus</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Days & Nights</em>. © The Overlook Press.</div>
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laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-38008831350580578952014-12-12T23:08:00.002-08:002014-12-12T23:08:37.279-08:00Let the rain come down... (gratitude, day 12)There's a backlog of posts waiting to see if I could find the right images to go with them. Some of them fully written, some half-formed. <br />
<br />
But after a quiet evening and another chaotic week, I was sitting here listening to the complaining cat and the sound of the rain.<br />
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The blessed, blessed rain. Tonight is a quiet rain, loud enough to be heard, not a torrential downpour. So much more is needed to really break the drought, but oh, to hear the raindrops fall is a joy.<br />
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<span class="bqQuoteLink"><a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/johnupdike139330.html?src=t_rain" title="view quote">Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/john_updike.html" title="view author">John Updike</a></div>
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laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-27183035336191736022014-12-06T23:14:00.000-08:002014-12-20T19:17:05.285-08:00hand in hand is the only way to land... (gratitude, day 6)<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r5RULF_FSaM/VJY7c9MoD5I/AAAAAAAAALw/dHaGoKZ7ahE/s1600/rztree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r5RULF_FSaM/VJY7c9MoD5I/AAAAAAAAALw/dHaGoKZ7ahE/s1600/rztree.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a>I spent a fair portion of today in contact with another body, and not necessarily El Bandito. A few hours of doubles trapeze training, which involves both intentional grabs and "oh crap, that wasn't what we meant to do grabs" -- and basic hand-to-hand contact.<br />
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Which was a good metaphor for the day. My trapeze partner is one of the people who I travelled with last year in my spates of adventure -- she's a good friend and great adventure partner, in so many ways. Our mutual friend and travel companion (and her primary trapeze partner) had expressed frustration and sadness that he was effectively single-parenting for a few weeks and was feeling overwhelmed at pre-Christmas preparation. That getting a tree, running up and down from the basement to get decorations, etc..., just all seemed too much.<br />
<br />
To which we declared an easy solution -- El Bandito, myself, my partner, her boyfriend, her trapeze partner and his 3-y.o. daughter met up for brunch, picked out a tree, and spend the afternoon hanging out, watching them decorate and drinking champagne.<br />
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Sometimes, you just need to stretch out a hand. I think we all had a good afternoon, and I know he felt better about things when the tree was up.<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-59319670928368648432014-12-05T19:29:00.000-08:002014-12-22T19:35:17.967-08:00outrage. fury.There isn't an appropriate image for this. And it's a strange thing to say I'm grateful for. Fury? Outrage? Who's grateful for some negatively connotative emotions?<br />
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But I am. I am grateful that I am surrounded by voices who question the lack of grand jury indictments. Who stand up and speak for those who aren't heard. For those who force themselves to be heard.<br />
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A strange tumult of emotions. <br />
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http://mlk-kpp01.stanford.edu:5801/transcription/document_images/undecided/630416-019.pdflaughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-4131814899162347832014-12-01T22:42:00.000-08:002014-12-04T22:43:04.604-08:00Tap Tap Tap... (2014 Day 1 Gratitude)Is this thing on?<br />
<br />
No, not really. But resurrection in the blog world is simpler than in the real world. Here we go.<br />
<br />
It's December.<br />
<br />
For the last six years, Jote at <a href="http://blessherheart.com/">blessherheart.com</a> has undertaken a project that suits her so well, based on her papa's wisdom. 30 days of gratitude -- with a little leeway. A chance to recognize, reflect, and revel in the important things. Which can vary from the global to the mundane; the morning cup of coffee to the abstract question.<br />
<br />
And for the last few years, I've played along. I barely touched this blog since the last round, but hey, it's a good reason to come back, to reconnect. And on my Sunday evening run, I was thinking about Jote's project, her papa's wisdom, the kindness of Jote's heart and the circles of her world... and I knew I'd be back to this.<br />
<br />
So here I am, grateful. For the reminder.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned.<br />
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<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-13309444694528559422014-02-14T18:16:00.001-08:002014-02-14T18:26:34.544-08:00Oh, intentionsI intended to finish days 28,29, and 30.<br />
I had posts planned.<br />
Full of gratitude.<br />
<br />
And then suddenly January happened. Funny how the earth continues to rotate through day and night whether or not you're really noting the passage of time. It wasn't a bad month; it wasn't a great month, it just kept sliding by.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, it's February. A year ago, I'd just gotten back after a week's adventuring with Goose in Hungary and Croatia, jet-lagged, happy, wanting more adventure.<br />
<br />
I didn't realize how much that desire would pervade my 2013, but my 41st year was one where I just kept seizing opportunities for travel. And regretting any that I turned down, even when work and financial solvency intervened.<br />
<br />
It's 2014, and I keep craving more. Seeing new things, resetting my world view, meeting people whose experiences are so foreign from mine...<br />
<br />
Fortunately, this year El Bandito's a little freer to join me on jaunts. So I keep day-dreaming. And starting to look at flights.<br />
<br />
And hoping too, that my wandering and that of dear friends intersects this year...<br />
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But hi, blog. Maybe I'll remember to return more often.<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-64683709918649792102013-12-30T19:59:00.000-08:002013-12-30T19:59:59.312-08:00days 26 & 27: walks in the snow and warm boots.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Many years, when we come to visit my family for the holidays, there's no snow on the ground. This year, there had been an ice storm a few days previous, visible in the trees and wires coated in clean crystalline ice and covered with fresh snow. El Bandito and I wandered through the fresh snow, threw snowballs, made snowmen. Enjoyed a brief bit of actual winter. Grinned like a fool.<br />
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And the winter boots that I bought prior to the trip have proved worthy. Warm feet and good traction. Grateful to have that option. <br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-76541729294040448962013-12-28T21:31:00.000-08:002013-12-28T21:31:57.004-08:00day 25: the family gathering<br />
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Despite the way my sister and I push each other's buttons, despite the grumbles and the rolled-eyes, I love that I get to spend a few days each year in warmth and tradition. And gratitude to El Bandtio for putting up with the hassle and talking me down when I get a little riled-up.</div>
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laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-91667602195303635862013-12-28T21:08:00.001-08:002013-12-28T21:08:25.930-08:00clear roads and easy travel: gratitude day 24A fun final day wandering the Windy City with El Bandito before picking up the rental car and heading off to my family for the actual holidays. Grateful for smooth travel, a convenient car rental and upgrade, grocery stores with good take-out sections to make the drive more palatable.laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-35663338081187935122013-12-28T21:05:00.002-08:002013-12-28T21:05:47.574-08:00day 23: the lake in winter<div style="text-align: center;">
There's something about the icy great lake that always fills my heart with joy.</div>
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<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-66252822503737854522013-12-24T21:47:00.001-08:002013-12-24T21:47:34.323-08:00day 19: connection. reconnection.If you've been following along at home for the last few years, you already know that I started this December 30 days of gratitude because of an inspiring, but physically distant, friend: <a href="http://blessherheart.typepad.com/">Jote</a>.<br />
That we'd reconnected in the ether with social media allowing us to have found each other and giving glimpses into our lives.<br />
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But we hadn't seen each other in almost 15 years.<br />
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I mentioned that I went to Austin in December. I was wrapping up a year of travel, of exploring, and of doing things I've been saying for years I'd do. That happened to include visiting my friend E. and his lovely family.<br />
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And it was also an excuse to see Jote. With a little trepidation... despite the world of social media, our lives are so different than those unformed college days. What if she didn't like me as much anymore? What if she wasn't actually excited to see me, but felt obligated to make time in her overwhelmed December pre-holiday schedule because I asked, and it had been so long?<br />
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When I opened E's door to head off with the lovely Jote for a cold morning walk, and she bounced her excitement at me... All that was dispelled. This was Jote, and her essential, quintessential, Jote-ness still speaks to my heart.<br />
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A couple years ago, I wrote about Jote "Older. Wiser. More bad-ass." So true. She's a woman with a generous heart, an impeccable sense of what's needed, a snarky sense of humour in a very loving way. She's found a community of women friends that suits her, but I'm glad I'm still among them, even remotely.<br />
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So thankful that that connection is still there. That reconnection. Here's to more reunions and more adventures, Jote. More walks along the water with touching public art displays. More conversations roaming from old to new to future. And thank you for being so very you.<br />
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<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-78598682017032580082013-12-24T21:23:00.003-08:002013-12-24T21:23:49.172-08:00furry faces: day 18<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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(although this is being posted later. intended earlier. started, not finished, while I looked for a photo...)<br />
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These furry faces are so very very helpful. Inquisitive. Demanding. Ridiculous.<br />
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I have always been a dog person, but I can't have a dog currently -- I'm not home enough to be fair to the dog yet. Someday. I'm also a cat person. A lot of people are one-or-the-other. Not to say that cats aren't time-intensive, but there's a little less structure to it.<br />
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These guys are devoted and have us well-trained.<br />
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There's something about having a completely relaxed critter sprawled against you, lacking all dignity, that's incredibly soothing and relaxing.<br />
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They force us to sit down and chill out sometimes. and that's a bonus.<br />
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And they leave huge pawprints on our hearts.<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-78085787381422927802013-12-22T21:14:00.000-08:002013-12-24T21:15:10.601-08:00day 22: wandering in the city<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As much as my face lights up in the mountains -- El Bandito lights up in the city. Oh, he's grown to love the mountains too; I see that same expression on his face in some of the most remote and beautiful places we go together.<br />
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But he grew up in the city, and he loves exploring neighborhoods, revisiting favorites, and finding new haunts.<br />
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I love wandering with him, that we can just stroll for hours without specific destination or plan, and still enjoy ourselves. And I happen to love the Windy City on its own merits, but that's a different post.<br />
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I love that we can find joy in each other's favorite places, even though they're so very divergent.<br />
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<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-21732804574331709372013-12-21T21:51:00.001-08:002013-12-21T21:51:54.663-08:00day 21: gratitude in the face of sadnessI don't have a beautiful photo for today's post.<br />
I have a lot of sadness.<br />
A friend of mine suffered an incredible, sudden, and devastating loss.<br />
It's not my loss, but I am absolutely gut-wrenched for her.<br />
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It's hard, in the face of such things, to find anything to be grateful for, although I've had a lovely day with El Bandito, who holds my hand when the sadness rises through.<br />
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And yet also, this is when gratitude is the most important. To cherish the moments, the friends, the community, the relationships. To appreciate the phone conversations sharing the sad news -- that we all care enough to inform, discuss, mourn together. To reach out to her, and each other.<br />
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Life is short. And fleeting. And things change unexpectedly. If you're reading this, go hug the people you love. And be grateful for them.<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-40029935001294599142013-12-21T00:04:00.000-08:002013-12-21T00:04:00.639-08:00the late night plumber: gratitude day 20days 18 and 19 are yet to be posted though I've held the grateful thoughts.<br />
but tonight we came home to pack for a trip and discovered that the bathtub and sink both had a few inches of standing water in them. Gross, murky standing water that hadn't been there this morning. And didn't respond to plunging or the short snake we have. not the situation you want when leaving the house to a house-sitter...<br />
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so today, I'm grateful for the plumber who came out on a friday evening and faced a more cunning and nasty blockage than he'd expected. grateful also for El Bandito, who talked to our landlords who drive me crazy, and cleaned up the mess the (very apologetic) plumber left behind when he finally succeeded in clearing the pipes. grateful that we're in a position where we can pay for an after- hours plumbing visit (and also that we can deduct it from the rent). And that I can shower before hopping on a plane...<br />
<br />laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-90288304030751690232013-12-17T20:00:00.000-08:002013-12-19T18:20:25.194-08:00days 16 & 17: getting a little holiday spirit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's something about living in this beautiful city by the bay that makes it hard for me to believe the holidays are nearly here. I've been having some serious grinch moments -- I love giving my friends and family gifts; I hate having a time frame. Because we travel to see family, we don't decorate the house (see also: the cats, one of whom is nicknamed Destructor)<br />
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I want more time to wander through the holiday-lit scenes, to go ice-skating in the public outdoor rink, to maybe attend a holiday party or two.<br />
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But I keep filling up all my evenings and weekends. With fun things, generally, but not "holiday" things.<br />
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A couple of days earlier this week, though, I managed to slip in a few things that make me love this time of year: a walk through the crowded holiday lights downtown on our way to dinner, and a trip to the Nutcracker with a couple of friends, getting our ballet fix. Although I have to say, I'm glad I found circus rather than reconnecting to dance.<br />
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And now, most of our holiday shopping is done (by internet, primarily, although I managed to support some of our local businesses in the process. that's important to me, but so is not having to carry large heavy things across the country). Tomorrow after work, El Bandito and I have a date for champagne and snacks, and then we start the holiday travel soon thereafter. <br />
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So I'm glad I've gotten a few minutes, a few hours, here and there to stop and enjoy some tradition, without feeling too overwhelmed.<br />
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laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718604112454257037.post-52170344527556869152013-12-15T23:00:00.000-08:002013-12-17T22:11:18.039-08:00el bandito; gratitude project day 15<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I keep getting stuck starting this, because El Bandito deserves just the right words. I'm always grateful to him, even when we're bickering about something stupid. So this will get posted late, but not because my gratitude is insignificant. Overwhelming.<br />
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He adds so much laughter to my life. Ridiculous, hysterical, can't-breathe-it-hurts kinda laughter. After all these years, it's the inside jokes, the raised eyebrow, the sideways look -- he know just how to crack me up.<br />
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And yet he's also supportive and understanding and ... my safety net.<br />
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I declared 2013 to be my year of adventure (though honestly, I'm not planning on slacking off much for 2014).<br />
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So I headed off to Eastern Europe to meet a friend for a whirlwind week. and then met her again in the late spring for a few days of mountain hiking. And went paragliding for the first time.<br />
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All of those adventures had El Bandito's encouragement and approval.<br />
Sometimes, he adventures with me. Eight beautiful days of mountain hiking in the fall -- and he even tried paragliding with me. For someone who is not fond of heights, that's a leap, no pun actually intended. And I love that he's willing to test his own boundaries to come explore the world with me.<br />
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When two of my circus friends invited me to go to Myanmar with them, his reaction was "It sounds like you really want to go. We can make this happen." And it did. It was wonderful, and I missed him mightily.<br />
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Sometimes he restrains me lightly, makes me consider the options, tells me something's a crazy idea. But he's always there, ready to encourage me, celebrate my achievements and catch me if something goes wrong. To hold my hand when I'm nervous before a show. To bring me coffee in the morning. To kiss me on the forehead. To be there. It's amazing to know.<br />
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He'll be there.laughing starhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18116546534882682654noreply@blogger.com0