Category: make me smile

  • halfway…

    photo

    Almost six months ago, I posted about my desire to “fall in love” with new experiences this year.  I just re-read my post and realized that I’ve already accomplished everything on my list for 2011, some of these even more than once!  So here’s that post again, as a refresher (and a reminder of just how good it feels to live in the moment and not with fear of the future):

    I hadn’t set any New Year’s resolutions until today. I randomly came across this poem (printed on a fabric flower) and I found my goal for the year (which actually does tie in nicely with Neil Gaiman’s wish for the year that I posted a few weeks ago)…

    “I Love, and the World is Mine” by Florence Earle Coates:

    For me the jasmine buds unfold
    And silver daisies star the lea,
    The crocus hoards the sunset gold,
    And the wild rose breathes for me.
    I feel the sap through the bough returning,
    I share the skylark’s transport fine,
    I know the fountain’s wayward yearning,
    I love, and the world is mine!

    I love, and thoughts that sometime grieved,
    Still well remembered, grieve not me;
    From all that darkened and deceived
    Upsoars my spirit free.
    For soft the hours repeat one story,
    Sings the sea one strain divine;
    My clouds arise all flushed with glory,—
    I love, and the world is mine!

    So in 2011, my goal is to fall in love each and every day.

    I’ll fall in love with flowers
    fresh bread
    and cheese and muscat grapes
    the sounds of slow trains on tracks
    and the scent of your sun-warmed skin
    wizened tree trunks
    painting with bold color
    and writing final drafts
    the sensation of clinging to high cliff walls
    and skiing down powdery slopes
    my plane landing on unfamiliar runways
    smiling
    and sand between my toes
    bright morning light reflecting off the water
    and late-night skies full of stars.

    This year I’ll be wholly and completely in love with the present moment, and at the same time in love with every step of the journey that I’m taking to accomplish my long term goals.

    This is it, my friends. I’m so excited for what lies ahead….

    The image above is taken from a vantage point overlooking one of the Gettysburg battlefields that I saw this past weekend…

  • signs

    signs

    After my conference in Washington DC this past week, I had an open afternoon for sightseeing.  A last-minute plan evolved to see a Civil War battlefield–which sounded better than just about any other option available in the area.  And we decided to not just see any old battlefield, but the mother-of-all-battlefields: Gettysburg.

    But on the way–just 20 miles shy of G’burg–I spied a sign off the side of the roadway for the National Civil War Medical Museum and I pretty much knew we had to detour.  Anyone who’s brought up Civil War medical practices at a party (and endured my blathering about said topic) knows that simply had to be done.  So we pulled off the road re-charted some GPS coordinates and soon found ourselves in the lobby of the museum, greeted by a man in a hodegpodge of CW regalia who began explaining the basics of medical practice in the era.  I didn’t say a word–just stood there with a silly grin on my face.  And then proceeded to oooo and ahhh over exhibits that featured some of the very same practitioners who frame chapters in my dissertation.  It was this geek-girl’s-dream-come-true (and was even better than the moment when I got to sit on Abe’s lap later that afternoon).

    I’ve written before some of the reasons for my attraction to Civil War medicine, the largest being that I feel a kinship with so many of the soldiers because of missing a limb.  Reading their narratives in the museum was not at all unlike reading my own medical histories.  It’s a morbid curiosity, perhaps,…but the sight of the surgeon’s amputation saw and the manuals describing the procedure in detail are so familiar, and I’m terrifically attracted to all of the small details.  As an example: one of the images in the museum showed a kind of traction device that was used to hold down the stump-limbs to keep the tendons from pulling them upwards to the body (a tendency that is all-too-common among leg amputees).  My daily yoga practice accomplishes some of this same thing–including time spent on my stomach to stretch out my hip flexors.  Yesterday I was actually aching quite a bit from having deviated from my typical exercise routine–small muscle spasms radiating from my residual limb a strong sign that my legs and hips were unused to the hours spent sitting on planes and in a conference and needed some attention.  It’s such a small part of my experience as an amputee–these hip issues–that I rarely ever even mention it to anyone–but yet seeing that small mention of it in the exhibit reminded me one more time of why I’m so fascinated by the stories of these soldiers.

    But after that I got plenty of exercise as we did the driving tour of the Gettysburg battlefields, eyeing nearly every single one of those 1300(!) markers in the fields telling that important story, and ending with my reading of the Gettysburg Address on the cemetery-spot where Lincoln first shared those words.

    All-in-all, a rich afternoon–full of history and memory and story.  And so perfect for this pilgrim-historian-amputee girl.

     

     

  • mornings

    my daily sunshine

    For me mornings used to be a blur of getting ready for the day, getting the kids out the door, etc. I was generally bleary-eyed and short-tempered. There was so much rushing here and there and bumping around in a small kitchen with everyone juggling cereal boxes and leftovers and schoolbooks and such.

    My mornings now are spent with me in meditation on the soft carpet of my living room. I open the back curtains and let the sunshine pour in. Ellycat typically joins me there, sunbathing. And more often than not, curling up into a soft purry ball in my lap.

    Right now, seeing the green leaves on the boughs of the trees overhead makes me feel my own excitement for the promise of spring. There is so much new and interesting and happy in my life. I feel so alive and present to the gifts of this day, and to those in my future.

    This morning I realized that it’s been just about 3 years since the injury in the garden that led to my massive leg infection and surgery.  As I told that story to a friend this weekend and showed him my scar, I marveled at the place that used to be sunken in (where the dead tissue and muscle was removed).  It’s now a regularly contoured calf muscle and the scar has faded to a pale pink seam.  There’s such satisfaction in knowing that old wounds do heal and that my leg (and my immune system) is now stronger than it ever was before.  From that experience I found my love for outrigger paddling and began to learn the ways of the ocean.  I never would have guessed then that such a hard time would eventually bring me so much strength, self-knowledge and joy.

  • catharsis and emergence (through ritual)

    DSC_4123

    For a long time I’ve wondered what to do with my wedding dress. It had severe mildew stains so it was unwearable. And certainly since the divorce it seemed like something that I would never want to wear again. I kept pulling it out of the closet and looking at it, wondering if I should simply toss it. But I kept thinking that it would work far better to do some sort of art project with it. I loved the dress and its simple lace–a reproduction of an Edwardian garden party dress. The ‘romantic’ within me knew that I couldn’t simply cast it into a trash bin.

    At the same time, I’ve been yearning for some sort of ritual to bring closure to my marriage. I had planned some spectacular way to throw my wedding rings into the Back Bay, but it just didn’t feel right. So it seemed more apropos to use the dress for my ritual. And I also knew that it needed to involve the ocean. My ocean. My beach. Near where John proposed and where we created all of our family memories of the Balboa FunZone, kayaking, and bonfires. As these ideas percolated around in my brain, a plan came together. And a photographer-friend was as delighted to be a part of this ritual as I was to perform it.

    That we did this the day after the tsunami, when the ocean water was still roiling with storm, was coincidence that turned into something meaningful. The currents came from Japan and touched our shores–just as in my cross-cultural marriage to a Japanese-American man. All of that connecting, all tugging at each of us, all testifying to the sometimes-destructive tide of relationships pulling us towards each other and then apart again…

    I thought this might be a somber occasion.  I thought I might cry, or even feel loss and anger.  Instead, I was ebullient. Emerging feeling washed clean of the ugliness that came from the end of my relationship.  Stepping out of the sea alone and full of joy, flower petals scattered along my path…

    [flickrslideshow acct_name=”pilgrimgirl” id=”72157626352812872″]

  • looking forward…

    free (like Frida)

    I am so looking forward to the upcoming weekend!

    There will be:

    boats
    beach
    boots
    friends
    the dissertation chair (and, quite possibly, the dissertation whip)
    a scholarly conference
    a bit of travel
    sleep
    tea
    rain
    photography
    love
    adventure!

  • Just doing it…

    This weekend I’m going to hit the ski slopes for the first time since 1988.  Nearly every time I’ve gone skiing something dramatically traumatic has occurred (mostly broken bones on my part–a wrist, an ankle, a hip pulled out of the socket).  I can’t even begin to express how excited I am to take this on at time in my life where I’m stronger, more body-aware, more ‘able’ than I ever have been before.  Something tells me that it’s all gonna be smooth sailing.  And if not…you can bet that there will be a great story to tell at the end of this adventure.  :)

  • And all from my cup of tea…

    afternoon tea

    This weekend was filled with a multitude of pleasures (that I’m recalling while sipping my afternoon cuppa):

    the thrill of a travel adventure, with places new and old
    the Museum of Jurassic Technology, followed by tea and cakes with founder David Hildebrand Wilson
    giggling (over and over again)
    slurping on kosher dills at Junior’s
    sunsets
    celebrating a friend’s birthday, full of good fortune(s)
    breakfasting on Eggs Benedict (yum, Hollandaise)
    driving and singing
    learning the secret ingredient for some famous guacamole
    decoupage art (and a decoupage artist)
    coffee with cardamom, after a morning of paddling in the sunshine

    There were moments as I drove down Santa Monica Boulevard where the memories were so potent that I was knocked back and forth in time. I was there. I had been there. When things were different. When people were different. When trajectories were different. The 405 freeway. The familiar landmarks.  The taste of deli food.

    And I knew I would always remember, but it would never be the same again. And I didn’t want it to be.

    She sent out for one of those short, plump little cakes called petites madeleines, which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted scallop of a pilgrim’s shell. And soon, mechanically, weary after a dull day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake.  No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. … Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? … And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea.

    ~Proust, À la recherche du temps perdu

  • Resemblance?

    IMGP7436Lately I’ve been meeting a lot of people “in real life” that I’ve only known online previously.  Many have remarked that I look quite different than my photos portray me (most say I look younger than my photos, which is certainly flattering).  So….I’m curious…for those of you who know me in meatspace, would you be willing to take a look at the flickr photoset of my pictures and tell me which one(s) look the most like me? I’m looking to update my various online avatars and want to do so with pictures that are both flattering and more accurate as to my real ‘look.’

    Also, if you’re a photographer, you’re more than welcome to have a go at helping me take some better pictures–but I should reveal upfront that I’m not always the most agreeable subject (as in the photo above where I got quite tired of posing for a friend who was trying to take a serious picture of me…)

    Thanks!

    Picture above taken by Jessawhy.

  • collaboration

    One of the oddest things about our divorce process is that John and I are managing all of it via Google tools.  We’ve got a shared custody gCal, a googledoc spreadsheet for dividing our assets, and a variety of other documents for managing the details of disentangling our lives.  When I login to googledocs I see all of our divorce-related documents next to the docs I use for teaching and for work.  What a strange sensation that is…

    After hearing about our use of google’s collaborative tools for our divorce, a friend jokingly suggested that I should create a  googledoc to crowdsource the qualities that I ought to be looking for in a new partner.

    So….here goes!  Feel free to take a look and add your $.02 by clicking on the link above.  I’d love to hear your input on the kind of person you think I ought to be on the lookout for.  Oh, and if you know anyone with all of these qualities, do let me know  ;-)

  • Simple pleasures

    IMG_0824, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    With all of the busy-ness of this week, I wanted to record just a few simple pleasures from the past few days…

    –walking in the Huntington Gardens in the rain, the vanilla-y smell of heliotrope filling the air

    –a spontaneous wine & cheese picnic with friends, after a leisurely soak in the hot tub

    –cooking a hearty soup that I used to make way-back-when, sans recipe, letting my memory be my guide

    –the loan of a warm soft sweater from a friend, when I’d forgotten my own (it’s actually been sweater-chilly in SoCal this week!)

    –hearing Catgirl and GameBoy’s excitement about the SNOW that they’re playing in on their trip to Utah.

    –moving through a tasklist of must-do items and checking them off, one-by-one.

    –climbing on the rock wall, feeling myself support my entire weight on my own two arms. Knowing my own strength.

  • orange

    I’ve been thinking about orange this morning.  How about you?

    [flickrslideshow acct_name=”pilgrimgirl” id=”72157625285746649″ border_width=”5″ border_style=”solid” border_color=”#cccccc”]

  • cream tea!


    cream tea!, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.