Going swimming

 

This has never happened
This is not supposed to be
I have been a non believer all my life.
In my days throughout the desert there has been no drop of water
Only strange mirages and a couple drops of rain.

Never have I seen this
It’s an ocean in the desert
It’s a sea of life and coral right where cactuses were once.
Do my eyes deceive me?
I cannot ignore the omens
I must swim, I must jump in
I must get wet
This water’s fine.

This has never happened
I never thought it would
In an instance I forgot the scorching sun
Or the burning in my heart 
or the thirst within my bones.

I fell with such abandon
I fell into its embrace
Into an ocean in the desert -
It has such a lovely face.

Copper Penny

I'd like to own you like a shiny copper penny
That I keep in my pocket;
putting my hand in to trace the outline of your face
Feeling the smooth texture
knowing always that you're there;
that you'll be there as long I keep you there.

But you are not an indelible image emblazened into copper
The way you've become etched into my being.
You are so very free.
Freer than anyone I've met
Than the leaves that blow into my yard in the fall.
You won't be held steady (this is both my joy and my suffering.)
You won't be mine
Although I have the most important parts of you;
which you give me freely whenever you sideways smile at me
Or sigh into my shoulder.
I am content to take that which you give.
To others it may seem paltry but I know that for you
it is nearly your soul.

I will not own you now or ever
But when your flitting swooping dancing skirt twirls in my direction
I wait to dance with you
Until the music plays no more
And off you go again
Off you go again.

Dark Day.

I'm having a dark day. We're not supposed to talk about them. We're not supposed to belly ache. We're not supposed to "wallow." We are not supposed to cry in public. We are not supposed to admit to our weakness, our frailty, our out-of-controlness- or our incompetence. When someone asks, "How are you?" the socially acceptable response is "I'm fine, how are you?" It would be impolite to dump your darkness all over another human being. This darkness is further exacerbated by shame. We are "supposed" to be happy. There is a stigma attached to being unhappy. As if someone who is unhappy is choosing to be. Insisting upon dwelling there. But that doesn't stopped the darkness from setting up a residence in some people's souls. Beneath the smiles and the glossy exteriors of some of your friends there might be a black hole that sucks them in but which they have learned to cover up. In fact, I'm going to assume that right now someone you think is exceedingly charmed is sitting home pacifying their dark beast. Someone you believe to be blessed is lulling themselves to sleep with an arsenal of weapons - sad movies, ice cream, alcohol, cutting, sex, heroin... so much to choose from. All in the hope of making the beast abate so they can go back to their seemingly carefree existence.

I just read an article that Russell Brand wrote about his 10 year sobriety. In the wake of the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, his story touched me deeply. He talked very candidly about the way heroin lured him and continues to lure him daily. His struggle with sobriety was described in nearly poetic terms. The seduction from his heroin lover was described as the "... bilious kiss of the greedy bliss." I read that several times over. I've never done heroin but I've heard many descriptors for it and this one reaches me viscerally. Good job, Mr. Brand, at helping a non user grasp the surrender to a greedy master. It is the thing of vampire romances.

Reading his article, so close to this other brilliant man's tragic death, on a day when I am feeling the desire to feel such exquisite surrender, such sublime escape from my own black depths - it has made me think. In my current raw state I am, luckily, not ashamed to write about this topic. Because I've always felt that if more of us exposed our souls in this manner, we might prevent future senseless deaths. I know it isn't that simple. I realize the problem is compounded by the physical dependency that comes with using drugs or other substances. I know it isn't as easy as giving someone a hug. But maybe, just maybe, if he'd felt like there was a person or persons he could go to who would see him - really see him - light and dark. If he'd felt he had a lap he could wallow and wail into until his darkness passed. Then, maybe the needle would have stopped calling him so loudly. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have succumbed to that "bilious kiss of the greedy bliss."

We must become more human. We need to be less media driven and less star crazed. Philip Seymour Hoffman was one of the most gifted actors to grace our screens. Amy Winehouse was one of the most talented singers I'd heard in a very long time when she died. Why are so many brilliant people giving in and giving up? I speculate that despite their incredible success and fame, they still feel like they are falling short. Even if only in their minds - they feel it. Nothing can soothe the furious and unrelenting voice beating them up from the inside. And surely, this must be compounded by a pressure to be Godlike. To be above it. Perhaps they feel they couldn't possibly admit to being unhappy. How dare they complain about anything, graced as they are with good fortune? We mere mortals cannot relate to that kind of pressure. But if I put myself in their shoes for a few moments, I can imagine that it must become a terrible double edged burden. 

This leads me to the final point of this article. Mental health in this country is woefully deemphasized - shunned by many. Mental and spiritual instability brings with it societal ostracization. The devalued homeless are systematically swept off city streets and hidden away so as not to blemish cities' outward images of tidiness and order. It is just another way in which our denial of emotional imbalance manifests itself. The bureaucratic answer is to hide the dark creatures, and then they won't exist. But they do. The mentally ill and spiritually lost on the streets are the most blatant example of our loss of humanity. These are the people who stopped smiling and saying, "I'm fine, how are you?" Either they surrendered to the needle entirely or they chose to walk away from a society that gave up on them. Either way, they're not all that different from Philip Seymour Huffman in the end. Their life just took them on a different journey.

We must be less afraid of peering into those dark places. We must, as a society, honor each other. Not by shunning or whitewashing and denying the existence of our dark places, but gently shedding a soft embracing light into those spaces. As such, I think it is high time we discuss why most insurance plans barely cover mental health services. I think it is high time we consider having more humane systems in place for people who have drifted outside of the community. In particular, we need to bring mental and spiritual services back to schools. When I say spiritual, I don't mean religious. What I mean is that kids need a sense of community and peoplehood and empathy and lovingness that is too often being replaced by material pursuits and the attainment of surface, goal oriented success. 

Adam Lanza of the Sandy Hook tragedy might have turned to drugs but instead he turned to violence. This is just another side of the same coin. And it didn't need to happen. After that tragedy there was some noise here and there in some of the media circles about mental health. There was talk of how his mental health was neglected and schools needed better ways of identifying at-risk youth. But then it went quiet. I had hoped that Obamacare would come with better mental health coverage and make a statement about caring for the souls of our citizens, as well as our bodies. But then that didn't manifest either. 

So on this dark day, with my dark thoughts pursuing me, I have put my own inner voices on pause so I can listen to the wailing of the many who don't just have dark days, but dark weeks, months, years. And as a fellow human, I wish to speak for all of us. We need to do better. Each and every one of us needs to do better. We can't shake our heads as if the tragedies have nothing to do with us. We can't post a message and be consider our part done. We must live with our eyes where our hearts are. Aware and unashamed. Loving enough to care and brave enough to face the ugly sides of our natures. We may not have the assistance of our representatives but we can look out for each other. Because we are all close enough to someone else to catch them before they fall.

How I came to know the Beatles.

Sweet boys
In crisp tailored suits
Brought me
My alphabet songs
My lullabies
My good night moon and
      wonderland
I was but a thought
when your joyful voices
Reached me in utero
Perking up my ears
While I bounced inside a happy momma
Learning to la la la 
Until the sun came out
But by then
You had changed the world.

On "Girls" (the HBO show)

Since everyone else seems to have something to say about the HBO show, Girls, including the National Review, I kind of feel it's time for me to weigh in. Especially since I've apparently got a problem wrapping my head around it. I have attempted to watch a couple of episodes but each time I cringe inwardly (and sometimes outwardly) at how bad I think it is. I realize many, many people must love it. I mean... it's making millions. Yet, somehow, the appeal is lost on me. The first time I watched it I told my husband I think it should be renamed "Sad." Because it seemed like all the characters were sad, empty shells of some other characters that might have had life once. And the events, even if funny at times, seemed kind of pathetic. After trying a second episode I then informed my husband that it would be a good show to play a drinking game to. We could take a shot of tequila each time one of the characters actually uttered the word "sad". (I'd heard it a few times during the particular episode I'd watched.)

Still... the show's popularity had been gnawing at me - quietly - like a virus that runs through your body without your knowledge until you suddenly develop a rash and a fever, by which point, it's usually too late. It led to the following. One day while I was headed int NYC on NJ Transit, I found myself sitting next to a pretty, white, bookish 24 year old girl who was on her cell phone to her dad. She was explaining how she'd gotten off a plane from Spain and was headed into the city to meet up with a co-worker then headed to Brooklyn. Then she said some things that made me think she might be a writer or her job entails writing because she said something about needing to hand in a writing assignment to her boss.

Ding, ding, ding!! Perfect!!  If ANYONE on the planet could explain "Girls" to me, it HAD to be this girl sitting next to me! I saw my chance and took it. I engaged her in conversation and asked her if she watched the show. She said she'd only seen one episode but her friends loved it. Great! I asked her if she could explain why her and her friends seemed to love the show so much (because, I explained... I just wasn't getting it). She looked somewhat bemused and like she was debating if she should continue speaking to me but then decided to play along. She said she thought the characters were a lot like people she actually knew. That other shows about girls have historically sent a signal that girls are supposed to be cute and sweet and charming and always have perfect hair and this show showed girls could be fat and awkward and fart. Okay.... I get that. I do.

But looking at her, it still wasn't adding up. Here was a pretty girl who seemed to actually have her shit pretty together, judging from the conversation I'd just overheard. Even if she did fart she seemed to be doing it with a real job and responsibilities. And, frankly, she was about a size 4 and quite cute... so I'm not sure how she felt she identified with these misfits on "Girls' but... okay... I get that part of it. I get that we women are sick and tired of being told what we're supposed to look like, how we're supposed to act, what is respectable and what isn't... I DO get that. But still... "Girls"? Really? Is this the only way we have right now to get that point across?

Hm. I will concede that it is progress of a kind. Imperfect, but heading in a generally progressive direction. Ultimately, time will tell. However, I reserve to the right to continue thinking it's a little bit sad. But I also concede that maybe I don't "get" it because it isn't a show targeting my demographic. It is a show targeting a group of disaffected, frustrated 20 and 30 somethings. Mostly white, mostly college educated and mostly totally out of the realm of my understanding. So I accept that maybe I can't give this show a truly unbiased review any more than the National Review can. The pretty 24 year old on NJ Transit did kind of look at me as though my opening line to her was "I come in peace". That should have been my cue to stop trying to "get" this show. Maybe I just won't ever. And that is probably fine.

Xmas Traditions and Keeping the Faith

It's a good thing no one really reads this blog because I'm probably going to say some things to upset some people but... that's life on the internet.

This morning the local fire department came past our house, like they do every year, with their Santa Claus. It's one of the things about living in the suburbs that makes me not miss life in New York City. It's sweet. I don't have children but the little kid inside me smiles big whenever they come past here and I know the kids next door are thrilled. It's these little heart warming traditions that Christmas is supposed to be about. Not the gifts or the glitzy stores or the pricey toys. It has become commercialized to the point of excess. It saddens me.

I married a Jewish man. So I have learned a bit about Jewish traditions. Not much, mind you. But some. And even though he is not religious by any stretch and his brother's family is only moderately religious, I am touched by their traditions. I think it's important that even though his brother does spoil his children, they still light the Hanukkah candles and sing the Hanukkah prayer every night. It emphasizes the real reason they are celebrating - not just because of presents and chocolates.

It's made me think about my own Catholic upbringing and Christmas. Growing up, my dad, a deeply Catholic man, stressed going to Christmas mass and the Virgin birth and celebrating the birth of Jesus. We had a tree and I believed in Santa Claus and I got modest gifts. But the idea that the holiday was connected to a Christian event was something that was always stressed in my house. Of course, over the years, I've gotten away from that, lapsed Catholic that I am. But I'm glad that I grew up with a sense of Christmas as something other than a greedfest.

I think if modern day Catholics and other Christians want their religions to thrive and their children to have a sense of reverence, they need to do at least what my father did or... maybe they need to take a lesson from our friends, the Jews. If you notice, they have prayer as a part of every holiday they celebrate. How many Christians you know say a prayer before unwrapping gifts? Or light a candle for baby Jesus the night before instead of going to bed dreaming of Xboxes and diamond necklaces? I'm not saying I plan to do any of these things. I want to be honest and say I'm a lapsed Catholic and I probably will not return to my faith as it was when I was growing up. It is my choice. I'm an adult. BUT, for those of you who do still follow your faith - I watch you complaining about dwindling congregations and kids who don't care and I say you need to take a look inside and see why this is. Traditions are important. Instilling future generations with a sense of awe and wonder and reverence for their faith is something that has to come before bright lights, new Nike's or the latest blast 'em and crash 'em video game. If you're getting lost in the greedfest, you are only contributing to the demise of your faith.

I know I'm preaching and I'm not even a "follower" but maybe I'm a watcher and this morning, when Santa came down my street not even bearing presents, it's the most Christmas spirit I've felt in a while. It's the little things. The representations of kindness and humanity that matter. And I just wanted to put that out there.

Mindful Eating

I dabble in Buddhism. "How is that?," you ask? Easy. The same way I'm a reformed Catholic. I believe in the tenets (which is, frankly, more than I can say about my Catholism) and, when I can get it together, I actually make attempts to follow the principles and even meditate. I wish I could stick to it long enough to call myself a true Buddhist but I obviously lack the discipline. So I guess you might call me a failed Buddist. Except in Buddhism there is no such thing. You do your best with each passing moment and don't judge it. It's a beautiful concept.

 That brings me to the concept of mindful eating. Like everything else Buddhist, the idea is to approach a meal with utter and sublime awareness. Sit without distractions. Take in the smells, texture, colors and tastes as if each morsel were a grand work of art. Allow it to nourish your body and feed your soul. Then stop when you are truly full. Not in the belly but wholly. This is something we do not do nearly enough. Why is it that restaurants play music? Serve alcohol? Because the noise, while adding "ambience" and the alcohol while "relaxing" you, also makes it impossible for you to actually be mindful of what you're eating. And so we often overeat. We are over stimulated.

 Today I sat down and had a brunch in total silence. The sunlight was streaming through my dining room window and there I sat with only the slight hum from the refrigerator coming from the kitchen behind me. I realized how loud my own chewing seemed within this utter quiet. But then, as I ate more, I also realized I was paying attention to chewing my food more thoroughly. Spending more time with each bite. I wasn't shoveling fast like I sometimes do when I'm busy talking over a meal or playing on the laptop while eating. I was noticing the textures of what I was eating and my coffee seemed tastier too. It made me wonder if perhaps some of my weight issues don't begin with a lack of mindfulness during my meals. It is something to consider. I will make attempts in the coming days to be more mindful while eating and I will post again in a few with my observations. I think it's worth taking a look at.