Hi all. If anyone is still following this blog, please change the bookmark to this link:
http://commonchange.org/
I switched to my own url. Please keep following! Thanks.
Kate
Monday, May 18, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Vibram Synchronicity
I have been on a barefoot kick for the past year. I am convinced that shoes can be linked back to the many foot and gait problems many have developed. No matter how you try and rationalize it, it does not make sense to walk or run with 2 inches of foam under us. Our bodies are natural shock absorbers if used correctly. No other species seem to need arch support and shock absorption, it does make me wonder... Don't just trust my rant, take a look at what others are saying. There is much more info out there too if you do a search under barefoot running. And somehow Nike is on-board with the idea...ah the irony.
Dealing with my own physical issues has led me to try barefoot running and walking to help promote a strong foot and healthy gait. It is however not socially acceptable nor always feasible (winter) to be barefoot. This is how I was first introduced to the Vibram Five Fingers shoe. It is as paired down a shoe as it comes. Basically an anti-shoe, shoe. Essentially you are wearing a thin piece of rubber to protect you from obstacles while allowing your natural arch to support you. I bought these shoes last summer and have been wearing them on and off since. Recently I started wearing them more. I am getting used to the funny stares I get from people as I walk down Beacon street sporting my 'toe shoes'.
On May 17th I begin my documentary road trip and I will talk about that in more detail later. I decided I would try to wear my Five Fingers quite a bit during this trip. This led me to the idea this afternoon that I would call the Vibram US headquarters located in Concord, MA and explain to them that I was shooting a documentary and would be wearing their shoes. Perhaps they would like to give me some free shoes to add to my wardrobe since I cannot afford to buy a whole slew of them now but would like to sport a few other pairs during my trip. I get free shoes, they get free marketing the perfect plan.
I was at Andover Newton again, right near the spot of my MacBook Syncronous moment when I called the Vibram office to see if I could talk to someone about my perfect plan. As the phone rang and I was about to leave a message I saw my friend Catherine walking towards me. I hung up before I got through to anyone and said hello to Cat. I would call Vibram back later. Cat and I talked for a while, then I headed out to meet my friend Sarah for dinner. Sarah and I enjoyed a nice dinner at Diva in Davis Square. The weather was lovely and we sat near a large open window literally inches from the sidewalk. Dinner was excellent.
"Nice shoes." I hear as our check is brought to the table. I turn and a man passing by on the sidewalk had noticed my Five Fingers. They are pretty hard to miss actually. "Thanks" I say and notice his shoes are also Vibrams. "Nice shoes" I reply and we began chatting. I notice he is quite passionate about the shoes. "Do you work for Vibram by chance?" I suddenly say. In that moment I already knew his answer, "Yes" he replied, synchronously.
We chatted and I told him of my perfect plan. He thought it sounded good and handed me his business card. It all happened so fast and when I sat down to sign the bill I was literally in a state of shock. I am going to send him an email tomorrow. I will keep this blog posted as to whether or not I get some sweet new shoes out of this sweet synchronous moment.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Rico
Summer was in Boston today and everyone was outside. It was gorgeous. I spent several hours at Jamaica Pond thinking and enjoying and saying hello. I passed a set of fisherman and asked if they were catching anything. They began to talk to me, and suddenly I got nervous. It was irrational but there was a quite a few of them and they looked much different than me. I spoke briefly with them and continued my walk. I noted the fear and processed just how absurd it was and ungrounded. I am trying to notice and overcome ridiculous fears that have been ingrained in me by growing-up in this culture.
I walked another lap barefoot and free and as I turned the last corner I saw the fishermen again. Determined to overcome my fear I said hello again and this time lingered to chat. I was not going to let an irrational fear keep me from speaking to an interesting crew of people on such a beautiful day. It was absurd. We chatted and I learned much about Jamaica Pond—its fish and 3 springs that feed it; its depth and glacial history. It was once used as an ice supply. People would cut large blocks of ice and ship it all over the world. This was before refrigeration.
The talk came back to fish and one of them took out a picture of himself and a huge salmon. He had caught it at that spot last week. I was impressed. The conversation ended and I left again, but as I walked away I felt another pull, to go back and chat. This time specifically to the man who caught the salmon. He looked to be of native American descent. I wanted to know more of who he was and where he was from, but I kept walking. Now this was absurd. I did not know this man and it would be presumptuous to assume he would want to talk me about anything as personal as this. I walked towards my car.
Damn I was afraid again. This time of feeling like a fool going back yet again to this group of strangers to talk. But I wanted to meet this man. I kept saying maybe I will run into him again. I crossed the Jamaica Way and headed to my car. I did not want to leave but fear was keeping me from crossing back over that street and having another conversation. I did not want to regret never trying but I was to afraid to try. Suddenly I looked over to where the fishermen stood and it appeared that one of them may have caught a fish. Just the excuse I needed. I ran back across the street.
Back near the pond I realized they hadn't caught a fish, they were just getting up to leave. Maybe they will walk past me and I can strike-up another conversation. I was feeling really fearful of going back especially if there was no fish. But this was ridiculous. For some reason I was being drawn back to talk to this man and I was afraid of looking foolish—this is asinine! I looked over again and noticed that all the other men had left except for him. I walked his way. I was not going to let fear rule this synchronous moment. As I approached him I decided to ask him what a good fishing lure would be to use here. It seemed less intrusive than, "Hello again, I noticed you seem to be of Native American descent, will you please share with me a little of your life and your culture."
He was friendly and we talked about kastmasters and dardevles. Then we talked about fish for a good while. He taught me about the giant grouper that you can catch off the shore of his home nation El Salvador. Legend has it that this was the fish that swallowed Jonah. He told me about the forests in El Salvador and his love of animals. He talked about howler and spider monkeys, capabaras and armadillos. He told me of the Galapagos islands and LonelySam, a 900 year-old sea turtle and only male surviving from his species. When he is gone the species is gone.
Then he told me of his country and of the year 1932 when 30,000 native men were massacred by 'Uncle Sam.' He told me about dictators and tyranny and genocide. I learned of the suffering that grew the banana I ate on my way to church this morning. All of this death for bananas. I knew a little about Latin America before this conversation but never with such detail. There was much to digest.
I overcame a fear that day and met a man familiar with a very different fear. Not the feeling foolish kind of fear but the feeling cold-metal rifle kind of fear. Our conversation at one time could have cost him his life in El Salvador. These fears led him to seek refuge in this country. The irony of course is that the one place he could find refuge was one of the places responsible in part for the tyranny he sought to escape.
He said if I wanted to learn more I should read, Open Veins of Latin America. This controversial book was just given to President Obama by President Chavez last week. Two months after Obama was elected, El Salvador elected a left-leaning president. He will be inaugurated in June. I saw hope reflecting in my friend's eyes.
The sun fell and burnt my cheeks. In El Salvador the sun always rises at 6 and sets at 6. At noon you have no shadow. This is because it is on the equator, the 'belly of the world", he said. He stood up and introduced himself as Rico. We must have been talking for over 2 hours. I hugged him and we parted ways. I learned much about fear this bright sunny day.
I walked another lap barefoot and free and as I turned the last corner I saw the fishermen again. Determined to overcome my fear I said hello again and this time lingered to chat. I was not going to let an irrational fear keep me from speaking to an interesting crew of people on such a beautiful day. It was absurd. We chatted and I learned much about Jamaica Pond—its fish and 3 springs that feed it; its depth and glacial history. It was once used as an ice supply. People would cut large blocks of ice and ship it all over the world. This was before refrigeration.
The talk came back to fish and one of them took out a picture of himself and a huge salmon. He had caught it at that spot last week. I was impressed. The conversation ended and I left again, but as I walked away I felt another pull, to go back and chat. This time specifically to the man who caught the salmon. He looked to be of native American descent. I wanted to know more of who he was and where he was from, but I kept walking. Now this was absurd. I did not know this man and it would be presumptuous to assume he would want to talk me about anything as personal as this. I walked towards my car.
Damn I was afraid again. This time of feeling like a fool going back yet again to this group of strangers to talk. But I wanted to meet this man. I kept saying maybe I will run into him again. I crossed the Jamaica Way and headed to my car. I did not want to leave but fear was keeping me from crossing back over that street and having another conversation. I did not want to regret never trying but I was to afraid to try. Suddenly I looked over to where the fishermen stood and it appeared that one of them may have caught a fish. Just the excuse I needed. I ran back across the street.
Back near the pond I realized they hadn't caught a fish, they were just getting up to leave. Maybe they will walk past me and I can strike-up another conversation. I was feeling really fearful of going back especially if there was no fish. But this was ridiculous. For some reason I was being drawn back to talk to this man and I was afraid of looking foolish—this is asinine! I looked over again and noticed that all the other men had left except for him. I walked his way. I was not going to let fear rule this synchronous moment. As I approached him I decided to ask him what a good fishing lure would be to use here. It seemed less intrusive than, "Hello again, I noticed you seem to be of Native American descent, will you please share with me a little of your life and your culture."
He was friendly and we talked about kastmasters and dardevles. Then we talked about fish for a good while. He taught me about the giant grouper that you can catch off the shore of his home nation El Salvador. Legend has it that this was the fish that swallowed Jonah. He told me about the forests in El Salvador and his love of animals. He talked about howler and spider monkeys, capabaras and armadillos. He told me of the Galapagos islands and LonelySam, a 900 year-old sea turtle and only male surviving from his species. When he is gone the species is gone.
Then he told me of his country and of the year 1932 when 30,000 native men were massacred by 'Uncle Sam.' He told me about dictators and tyranny and genocide. I learned of the suffering that grew the banana I ate on my way to church this morning. All of this death for bananas. I knew a little about Latin America before this conversation but never with such detail. There was much to digest.
I overcame a fear that day and met a man familiar with a very different fear. Not the feeling foolish kind of fear but the feeling cold-metal rifle kind of fear. Our conversation at one time could have cost him his life in El Salvador. These fears led him to seek refuge in this country. The irony of course is that the one place he could find refuge was one of the places responsible in part for the tyranny he sought to escape.
He said if I wanted to learn more I should read, Open Veins of Latin America. This controversial book was just given to President Obama by President Chavez last week. Two months after Obama was elected, El Salvador elected a left-leaning president. He will be inaugurated in June. I saw hope reflecting in my friend's eyes.
The sun fell and burnt my cheeks. In El Salvador the sun always rises at 6 and sets at 6. At noon you have no shadow. This is because it is on the equator, the 'belly of the world", he said. He stood up and introduced himself as Rico. We must have been talking for over 2 hours. I hugged him and we parted ways. I learned much about fear this bright sunny day.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Walk
Along the path of life we walk with many different people. During our journey we can become the physical hands and hearts of Love for each other. As travel companions we each have much to learn and teach. Some will walk with us during our entire pilgrimage here on earth, others will walk with us during different stages. All are a gift.
Liz and I met in 2001 in Kent, Ohio. We were young; we were growing up. We fell in love. I walked beside her as her community of friends and faith shunned her, ostracized her and cast her out for this love. There was great pain during this leg of the journey.
We married and lived the lives we thought we ought to in order to hide the pain of our individual realities. We walked together and traveled here to Boston.
She walked beside me as I heard the news—my father and brother and uncle had been killed. Together we walked through the dark valley of the shadow of death. I needed the physical presence of Christ during this leg of the journey. Together we walked.
We were not destined to walk our whole journey together as spouses. When we made that commitment we did not know who we were—we were frightened and asleep. Our time together as spouses ended and our paths parted. Others became the hands and hearts of Love who walked with me during my healing sojourn in the intense desert of grief.
We no longer walked together but we continued to travel. We grew-up.
Today I walked into Marsh Chapel at Boston University and heard a very powerful, inspiring sermon. Elisabeth Mae Douglass preached it.
I am proud of the woman Liz has become.
I am proud to have been able to walk the way of reconciliation and forgiveness with her.
I am proud to hear this sermon, this morning from the mouth of Lizzy Douglass—one who has been shunned by many but who continues to persevere and claim the Resurrection message of Christ even as others sought to deny it from her.
Thank you Liz for your inspiring message.
Thank you Liz for being one travel companion with me on this life's journey.
Thank you for keeping the Light with in you kindled even in the face of such adversity.
You are an amazing woman.
Preach it Sista!
Listen to the podcast here once it is posted.
Liz and I met in 2001 in Kent, Ohio. We were young; we were growing up. We fell in love. I walked beside her as her community of friends and faith shunned her, ostracized her and cast her out for this love. There was great pain during this leg of the journey.
We married and lived the lives we thought we ought to in order to hide the pain of our individual realities. We walked together and traveled here to Boston.
She walked beside me as I heard the news—my father and brother and uncle had been killed. Together we walked through the dark valley of the shadow of death. I needed the physical presence of Christ during this leg of the journey. Together we walked.
We were not destined to walk our whole journey together as spouses. When we made that commitment we did not know who we were—we were frightened and asleep. Our time together as spouses ended and our paths parted. Others became the hands and hearts of Love who walked with me during my healing sojourn in the intense desert of grief.
We no longer walked together but we continued to travel. We grew-up.
Today I walked into Marsh Chapel at Boston University and heard a very powerful, inspiring sermon. Elisabeth Mae Douglass preached it.
I am proud of the woman Liz has become.
I am proud to have been able to walk the way of reconciliation and forgiveness with her.
I am proud to hear this sermon, this morning from the mouth of Lizzy Douglass—one who has been shunned by many but who continues to persevere and claim the Resurrection message of Christ even as others sought to deny it from her.
Thank you Liz for your inspiring message.
Thank you Liz for being one travel companion with me on this life's journey.
Thank you for keeping the Light with in you kindled even in the face of such adversity.
You are an amazing woman.
Preach it Sista!
Listen to the podcast here once it is posted.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Impermanence
I can count on one hand the number of times my father was ever angry with me. One instance stands out distinctly. The year was 1987 and the occasion was a brand new Chevy Cavalier station wagon. My father had just driven it home from the lot and awaited my uncle's arrival to talk about the new purchase and all its perks. My uncle worked on the assembly line in the GM plant not far from my childhood home. The station wagon was light blue.
My uncle arrived and he and my father talked car. My brother, cousin and I stood by in the garage. We were somewhat taken by the new car but did not fully grasp the impact of its purchase so we idly found other things to do. I suggested throwing rocks. For some reason throwing rocks was something we always enjoyed doing, but always got into trouble for "You will hit someone. Rocks in the front yard will mess up the lawn mower!" But that day we went for it anyway.
Somehow we were ignored. Perhaps my father and uncle were too engrossed in the new car purchase to notice us. Or perhaps it was fate so I could one day write this post, either way no one took notice. We took great care launching rock after rock, careful not to hit anyone or our neatly mowed lawn. And then it slipped, the small piece of grey granite, full speed from my hand. In slow motion I watched it hurtle directly towards the Chevy.
Ouch! The new car suffered its first and deepest chip. Impermanence.
____________________________________________________
Last week I wrote about the serendipitous, synchronous sale of my MacBook. I met Burton last Wednesday and immediately headed to the Apple Store, cash in hand to purchase my new MacBook Pro. I raced home with my new purchase. I had deja vu as I opened yet another brand new Apple box savoring every moment of its pristine packaging. A truly climactic moment for any graphic designer.
Later that same evening I started this blog on my brand new laptop. In the excitement of the blog and other creative endeavors I called my mom. While multi-tasking I set my brilliant new MacBook Pro on the ottoman and headed into the other room to grab a cord. On my way back I heard it.
Crap! My brand new MacBook crashed to the floor. Impermanence.
____________________________________________________
While I still worked at Kent State I was given a beautiful blue mug with Kent's logo. Something about the design of the mug and its feel led me to never use it but to place it on my shelf for one part decoration, one part safe keeping. The mug felt too special to use.
Recently the mug made it into our cup rotation at the apartment. I noticed Chris was using it quite a bit. One day I brought up how special that mug was to me. So special in fact that I never used it. We joked about this and finally I loosened up and began to use it myself. Chris and I would daily switch who would use it. He had taken a real liking to it himself. One day shortly after this started I came home and found it in the sink.
Damn! My beautiful mug had a huge chip. Impermanence
____________________________________________________
We have all had these instances where something unexpectedly and dramatically changes what we were expecting. Often we never realize the many ways we are attached to specific outcomes until something dramatically rocks our situation. I had an attachment to the pristine newness of my MacBook but in an instant that changed when it crashed to the floor. Suddenly its newness wore off as I noticed it did not shut smoothly and I was fearful that it suffered internal damage. I suppose it was the same that day for my father as he ran his hand over the freshly chipped paint of his new car.
When I first saw my favorite mug was chipped I felt angry. But as a practice I noticed my feelings and let them go. Because of this I was able to notice my attachment to this material object. It was a mug yet I had feelings invested in it. This became a valuable lesson to me about how many attachments I have in this life. This chipped, blue Kent State mug suddenly became my teacher. It is in these moments we can learn. They remind us of the constant change of this world.
Nothing remains the same and the more we can accept this fact the less we will suffer.
Chris returned home and apologetically explained the chip. I laughed and told him after my initial feelings of anger I was able to see the comedy in the situation—that I held such attachment to a simple household item. I kept the mug and we still use it. I drink tea from a cup that teaches me daily this lesson. Each sip I am reminded of the impermanence of this world.
My uncle arrived and he and my father talked car. My brother, cousin and I stood by in the garage. We were somewhat taken by the new car but did not fully grasp the impact of its purchase so we idly found other things to do. I suggested throwing rocks. For some reason throwing rocks was something we always enjoyed doing, but always got into trouble for "You will hit someone. Rocks in the front yard will mess up the lawn mower!" But that day we went for it anyway.
Somehow we were ignored. Perhaps my father and uncle were too engrossed in the new car purchase to notice us. Or perhaps it was fate so I could one day write this post, either way no one took notice. We took great care launching rock after rock, careful not to hit anyone or our neatly mowed lawn. And then it slipped, the small piece of grey granite, full speed from my hand. In slow motion I watched it hurtle directly towards the Chevy.
Ouch! The new car suffered its first and deepest chip. Impermanence.
____________________________________________________
Last week I wrote about the serendipitous, synchronous sale of my MacBook. I met Burton last Wednesday and immediately headed to the Apple Store, cash in hand to purchase my new MacBook Pro. I raced home with my new purchase. I had deja vu as I opened yet another brand new Apple box savoring every moment of its pristine packaging. A truly climactic moment for any graphic designer.
Later that same evening I started this blog on my brand new laptop. In the excitement of the blog and other creative endeavors I called my mom. While multi-tasking I set my brilliant new MacBook Pro on the ottoman and headed into the other room to grab a cord. On my way back I heard it.
Crap! My brand new MacBook crashed to the floor. Impermanence.
____________________________________________________
While I still worked at Kent State I was given a beautiful blue mug with Kent's logo. Something about the design of the mug and its feel led me to never use it but to place it on my shelf for one part decoration, one part safe keeping. The mug felt too special to use.
Recently the mug made it into our cup rotation at the apartment. I noticed Chris was using it quite a bit. One day I brought up how special that mug was to me. So special in fact that I never used it. We joked about this and finally I loosened up and began to use it myself. Chris and I would daily switch who would use it. He had taken a real liking to it himself. One day shortly after this started I came home and found it in the sink.
Damn! My beautiful mug had a huge chip. Impermanence
____________________________________________________
We have all had these instances where something unexpectedly and dramatically changes what we were expecting. Often we never realize the many ways we are attached to specific outcomes until something dramatically rocks our situation. I had an attachment to the pristine newness of my MacBook but in an instant that changed when it crashed to the floor. Suddenly its newness wore off as I noticed it did not shut smoothly and I was fearful that it suffered internal damage. I suppose it was the same that day for my father as he ran his hand over the freshly chipped paint of his new car.
When I first saw my favorite mug was chipped I felt angry. But as a practice I noticed my feelings and let them go. Because of this I was able to notice my attachment to this material object. It was a mug yet I had feelings invested in it. This became a valuable lesson to me about how many attachments I have in this life. This chipped, blue Kent State mug suddenly became my teacher. It is in these moments we can learn. They remind us of the constant change of this world.
Nothing remains the same and the more we can accept this fact the less we will suffer.
Chris returned home and apologetically explained the chip. I laughed and told him after my initial feelings of anger I was able to see the comedy in the situation—that I held such attachment to a simple household item. I kept the mug and we still use it. I drink tea from a cup that teaches me daily this lesson. Each sip I am reminded of the impermanence of this world.
Monday, April 6, 2009
OpenSpirit
Last night I went to OpenSpirit, a creative worship gathering in the Christian tradition. I have been meaning to check it out and decided last minute to head over. It is a great service filled with a vibrant creative energy. One professor at Andover Newton, Dr. Mark S. Burrows is a co-leader of the event. Remember the poetry class many of you have heard so much about last semester—he is my professor from this class.
Mark has graciously allowed me to post this poem which he shared with us at the OpenSpirit service last night. I felt the poem is very appropriate for my blog and for what many of us have been discussing as of late. Thanks Mark.
____________________________
The Occassion
What if beauty is a substance
in this world of accident and remorse,
finite and particular and dispersed
like the sound of larks singing
carelessly into the morning silences
regardless of audience or absence or
any other need? And what if our
sole purpose is to seek what falls
into the crevices of disregard,
gratefully reaching into the stream
with dry hands and parched lips?
And what if time is only the occasion
for gathering these shards of loveliness
into the heart’s hungry vestibule?
M. S. Burrows
31 March 2009
_
Mark has graciously allowed me to post this poem which he shared with us at the OpenSpirit service last night. I felt the poem is very appropriate for my blog and for what many of us have been discussing as of late. Thanks Mark.
____________________________
The Occassion
What if beauty is a substance
in this world of accident and remorse,
finite and particular and dispersed
like the sound of larks singing
carelessly into the morning silences
regardless of audience or absence or
any other need? And what if our
sole purpose is to seek what falls
into the crevices of disregard,
gratefully reaching into the stream
with dry hands and parched lips?
And what if time is only the occasion
for gathering these shards of loveliness
into the heart’s hungry vestibule?
M. S. Burrows
31 March 2009
_
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Bringing Poetry Back
Since I officially have 6 followers of this blog I really don't want to disappoint as you eagerly check back each day for a new installment. Yet I must be honest with my own capabilities. This is a new medium for me and I am not sure how often I will be able to capture such a slice of life as I did yesterday. But I am excited for this new venue because it challenges me to a new writing discipline. Can I post consistently and creatively enough to keep my 6 blog followers following? This remains to be seen but I will try, realistically recognizing that everyday may not afford me the time or muse for a well thought out post. Knowing this I thought perhaps on off days I could post poetry I find particularly moving. This will solve two issues: keeping fodder for the followers and keeping my nose in those damn poetry books always vying for my attention.
I was married to a gifted poet for 4 years but I never read poetry. Except for those small gifts written to me inside a birthday card or on a small, folded piece of paper containing an elegant expression of her feeling. This was the extent of my poetry reading much to Liz's disdain. But to be honest I just didn't get it. I was a visual person and words on paper were just so black and white.
Then one day, months after my marriage ended, in the throes of the black and white world of grief I finally saw a poem. It's colors illuminated me from the inside out. I felt light where only darkness had shrouded me for many weeks. It was an in breaking of breath, spirit and light. It was Rainer Marie Rilke, the Book of Hours and it had literally jumped off the shelf at me in Brookline Booksmith. I had never read a book of poetry, let alone bought one. But that day, I walked up to the counter with Rilke in my hand and anxiety, sorrow and depression in my heart and purchased that book.
I read it from cover to cover with a glass of wine in hand on a cold and lonely couch in Roslindale. My world changed. I felt each poem move through me bringing a subtle warmth and kindling light were I thought there was none. I let each word breath and inhaled their sweetness. I savored each line and let their poetic richness explode inside me. I lived.
I learned to taste wine that summer in a small wine shop in Roslindale Center. The most friendly man owns it and his wife is an expert taster. One lazy summer afternoon she taught me how to taste. There were not a lot of customers that day.
Pour and appreciate the rich sight of its color.
Inhale deeply its vintage aroma.
Drink its full flavor.
Swish.
Swallow.
Savor.
Notice oak, pepper, cherry and if you are lucky chocolate.
Repeat.
It is the same with poetry.
______________
We must not portray you in king's robes
You drifting mist that brought forth the morning.
Once again from the old paintboxes
we take the same gold for scepter and crown
that has disguised you through the ages
Piously we produce our images of you
Till they stand around you like a thousand walls.
And when our hearts would simply open
our fervent hands hide you.
______________
Rainer Marie Rilke
Book of Hours
I.4
I was married to a gifted poet for 4 years but I never read poetry. Except for those small gifts written to me inside a birthday card or on a small, folded piece of paper containing an elegant expression of her feeling. This was the extent of my poetry reading much to Liz's disdain. But to be honest I just didn't get it. I was a visual person and words on paper were just so black and white.
Then one day, months after my marriage ended, in the throes of the black and white world of grief I finally saw a poem. It's colors illuminated me from the inside out. I felt light where only darkness had shrouded me for many weeks. It was an in breaking of breath, spirit and light. It was Rainer Marie Rilke, the Book of Hours and it had literally jumped off the shelf at me in Brookline Booksmith. I had never read a book of poetry, let alone bought one. But that day, I walked up to the counter with Rilke in my hand and anxiety, sorrow and depression in my heart and purchased that book.
I read it from cover to cover with a glass of wine in hand on a cold and lonely couch in Roslindale. My world changed. I felt each poem move through me bringing a subtle warmth and kindling light were I thought there was none. I let each word breath and inhaled their sweetness. I savored each line and let their poetic richness explode inside me. I lived.
I learned to taste wine that summer in a small wine shop in Roslindale Center. The most friendly man owns it and his wife is an expert taster. One lazy summer afternoon she taught me how to taste. There were not a lot of customers that day.
Pour and appreciate the rich sight of its color.
Inhale deeply its vintage aroma.
Drink its full flavor.
Swish.
Swallow.
Savor.
Notice oak, pepper, cherry and if you are lucky chocolate.
Repeat.
It is the same with poetry.
______________
We must not portray you in king's robes
You drifting mist that brought forth the morning.
Once again from the old paintboxes
we take the same gold for scepter and crown
that has disguised you through the ages
Piously we produce our images of you
Till they stand around you like a thousand walls.
And when our hearts would simply open
our fervent hands hide you.
______________
Rainer Marie Rilke
Book of Hours
I.4
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
MacBook Synchronicity
Today I write about synchronicity. This is a term used to describe when a series of events perfectly execute in such a manner that the probability of them occurring seems so outlandish that many of us, especially those of us spiritually minded types, attribute them to something far greater than mere coincidence. Some might refer to these as the workings of something other than ourselves. Perhaps god or spirit or the mysterious power of the universe. Sometimes we think of them as answered prayer or miracles or just flat out luck. However we label or make meaning out of these moments the truth is, most of us can surely relate to having at least one in our lifetime. And I can bet, if you are anything like me, you've probably had quite a few synchronous or what I sometimes refer to as WTF moments. You know those moments that have caused pause and awe.
Somehow it feels right creating my second post around this subject. To be honest my life has been filled with many of these moments. Some quite benign and others downright unbelievable which astonished many people as well as myself. It seems that whenever I take risks or new steps which really challenge myself these moments become increasingly more abundant. Or perhaps I am just increasingly more open to seeing them in these moments. Either way I take notice and I want this to be a forum where I can record these events as they unfold, especially now as I am about to embark on several new journeys these next few months. I anticipate synchronicity.
Last night I was videoing and blogging and I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to purchase a new computer. My practically brand new MacBook just won't cut it for the video editing I want to do, no pun intended. This machine will literally not allow me to capture digital video because it has no Firewire port. This leaves me with no choice if I want to capture digital video I need to upgrade my system to the MacBook Pro. Perfect solution with one small caveat—I need to sell my MacBook. I declared this to Chris last night as I was borrowing his computer to capture the below video. I sighed and resigned to the impending craigslist post I would have to write and manage in hopes of salvaging a bit of cash from my most recent apple investment. Selling things is such a pain in the ass.
Today I was sitting in Peet's Coffee doing a bit of writing when I got an email saying I had several library books over due from school. No biggie, what is it like 10¢ a day. I call to renew them, when the librarian tells me that each book is 25¢ a day which adds up damn fast when you have 12 books out on loan. Good lord people, I owed $22 already and they were due back less than a week ago. Apparently I will be helping the library stay afloat in these harsh economic times. I had no choice but to leave and head straight to the library. I could not renew the books until my balance was down to less than $5.
As I was pulling up the hill at ANTS I could not find a close parking spot. I resigned to parking across the quad and walking to the library. In that parking instant I somehow felt it was ok that I was not parking close. I went with the feeling. As I was walking across the quad I saw a woman I was briefly acquainted with, my friend Ned's wife Samara. She was walking her 2 beautiful dogs. Should I say hi? I could easily keep going. I don't need to have a conversation with her. All I need to do is go to the library and get back home so I can finish that writing I was working on. Besides she is quiet and the small talk is going to be awkward. "Hi Samara" I say as I head across the quad to greet her.
Her doggies are so cute and I pet them for a while. She is not as quiet as I thought. Next Ned comes across the quad and we say hello. A few minutes later a good friend of mine Burton walks onto the quad. It is great to see him but at this rate I am going to have another $10 fine on my library card. My intent was to just pay the fine and head home, after all I had writing to do. Caught in my own thoughts and not truly present to anyone but those wonderful 2 dogs I suddenly hear Burton say, "Well that's it. I've decided I am just going to go for it. I am leaving right now to go down to the Apple Store and buy a new computer." WTF. In an instant I am all ears. It turns out that Burton has been going back and forth about upgrading his clunky old Dell into a sleek new MacBook.
My MacBook is sold and Burton saved a few hundred bucks. Tomorrow at noon I pick-up the cash and head over to the Apple Store. Looks like I will have my new MacBook Pro sooner than I thought. Paws and awe synchronicity.
Somehow it feels right creating my second post around this subject. To be honest my life has been filled with many of these moments. Some quite benign and others downright unbelievable which astonished many people as well as myself. It seems that whenever I take risks or new steps which really challenge myself these moments become increasingly more abundant. Or perhaps I am just increasingly more open to seeing them in these moments. Either way I take notice and I want this to be a forum where I can record these events as they unfold, especially now as I am about to embark on several new journeys these next few months. I anticipate synchronicity.
Last night I was videoing and blogging and I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to purchase a new computer. My practically brand new MacBook just won't cut it for the video editing I want to do, no pun intended. This machine will literally not allow me to capture digital video because it has no Firewire port. This leaves me with no choice if I want to capture digital video I need to upgrade my system to the MacBook Pro. Perfect solution with one small caveat—I need to sell my MacBook. I declared this to Chris last night as I was borrowing his computer to capture the below video. I sighed and resigned to the impending craigslist post I would have to write and manage in hopes of salvaging a bit of cash from my most recent apple investment. Selling things is such a pain in the ass.
Today I was sitting in Peet's Coffee doing a bit of writing when I got an email saying I had several library books over due from school. No biggie, what is it like 10¢ a day. I call to renew them, when the librarian tells me that each book is 25¢ a day which adds up damn fast when you have 12 books out on loan. Good lord people, I owed $22 already and they were due back less than a week ago. Apparently I will be helping the library stay afloat in these harsh economic times. I had no choice but to leave and head straight to the library. I could not renew the books until my balance was down to less than $5.
As I was pulling up the hill at ANTS I could not find a close parking spot. I resigned to parking across the quad and walking to the library. In that parking instant I somehow felt it was ok that I was not parking close. I went with the feeling. As I was walking across the quad I saw a woman I was briefly acquainted with, my friend Ned's wife Samara. She was walking her 2 beautiful dogs. Should I say hi? I could easily keep going. I don't need to have a conversation with her. All I need to do is go to the library and get back home so I can finish that writing I was working on. Besides she is quiet and the small talk is going to be awkward. "Hi Samara" I say as I head across the quad to greet her.
Her doggies are so cute and I pet them for a while. She is not as quiet as I thought. Next Ned comes across the quad and we say hello. A few minutes later a good friend of mine Burton walks onto the quad. It is great to see him but at this rate I am going to have another $10 fine on my library card. My intent was to just pay the fine and head home, after all I had writing to do. Caught in my own thoughts and not truly present to anyone but those wonderful 2 dogs I suddenly hear Burton say, "Well that's it. I've decided I am just going to go for it. I am leaving right now to go down to the Apple Store and buy a new computer." WTF. In an instant I am all ears. It turns out that Burton has been going back and forth about upgrading his clunky old Dell into a sleek new MacBook.
My MacBook is sold and Burton saved a few hundred bucks. Tomorrow at noon I pick-up the cash and head over to the Apple Store. Looks like I will have my new MacBook Pro sooner than I thought. Paws and awe synchronicity.
Here I am blogging.
Well here is my obligatory I have a blog now and I am writing a first post post. So here it is: I have a blog now and this is my official first post. The reality is I am an avid journal and have been for 20 years. Yes 20 years, which means I was 10 when I started because my age just rolled over to the big 3-0 this past Saturday. So now I am beginning to take my journaling escapades to the virtual realm where I can share with all of you the thoughts, songs, metaphors etc that are rolling through my head or life in the moment. Especially as I plan some trips in the future, I think this might be a good way to keep in touch.
It is appropriate that my first blog is posted today April 1st, 2009. I few weeks ago, I declared the full month of April a writing month. My plan is to keep my schedule clear and my goal is to have written most of what I set-out to write for the month. Ironically this blog was not part of my intention and really just sprung up organically this evening. The truth is I have been messing around with my new video camera (panasonic dvx100b...aka sweet) that I purchased to help assist me in all my artistic endeavors and also learning a new song (hard sun). I filmed myself playing the song then experimented with capturing video, importing and editing in imovie. From there I went to export to youtube. However when I went to upload to youtube they were experiencing some technical difficulties. Hence my idea to post the video on a blog. Then I rushed over to blogger while the video was still rendering, registered for an account, then BAM! Here I am writing a first post in a virtual diary. God this is so Doogie Howser (obligatory first post doogie reference).
This is my first virtual shout-out and I think I might have just stumbled across something I could get used judging by how much I enjoyted this first post. Thank you youtube for screwing up because here I am.
Alright welcome to my blog and check out my first video below.
Ciao!
This song was on a CD Suzanne burned me for my birthday—thanks Suzanne. I felt so much energy pouring from this song that I couldn't stop listening to it the last 2 days. I decided tonight I would try and learn it and I did. It just came out so easily, for this I am so thankful. And damn it is fun to play. After learning the song I figured I would mess around with my new camera and shoot a little video.
I should also mention that this song has significance because it is sung by Eddie Vedder in the movie Into the Wild. It was this movie that originally led me on my journey to Alaska last year. Perhaps that story will be another entry.
It is appropriate that my first blog is posted today April 1st, 2009. I few weeks ago, I declared the full month of April a writing month. My plan is to keep my schedule clear and my goal is to have written most of what I set-out to write for the month. Ironically this blog was not part of my intention and really just sprung up organically this evening. The truth is I have been messing around with my new video camera (panasonic dvx100b...aka sweet) that I purchased to help assist me in all my artistic endeavors and also learning a new song (hard sun). I filmed myself playing the song then experimented with capturing video, importing and editing in imovie. From there I went to export to youtube. However when I went to upload to youtube they were experiencing some technical difficulties. Hence my idea to post the video on a blog. Then I rushed over to blogger while the video was still rendering, registered for an account, then BAM! Here I am writing a first post in a virtual diary. God this is so Doogie Howser (obligatory first post doogie reference).
This is my first virtual shout-out and I think I might have just stumbled across something I could get used judging by how much I enjoyted this first post. Thank you youtube for screwing up because here I am.
Alright welcome to my blog and check out my first video below.
Ciao!
This song was on a CD Suzanne burned me for my birthday—thanks Suzanne. I felt so much energy pouring from this song that I couldn't stop listening to it the last 2 days. I decided tonight I would try and learn it and I did. It just came out so easily, for this I am so thankful. And damn it is fun to play. After learning the song I figured I would mess around with my new camera and shoot a little video.
I should also mention that this song has significance because it is sung by Eddie Vedder in the movie Into the Wild. It was this movie that originally led me on my journey to Alaska last year. Perhaps that story will be another entry.
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