Velas de luna

Velas de luna
Rio Dulce, Guatemala

Monday, July 12, 2010

Reflections on Homing Oneself: Taking a step back

“There is human time and there is wild time. The psyches and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place. Once we lived by these cycles and seasons year after year, and they lived in us. They calmed us, danced us, shook us, reassured us, made us learn creaturally. They were part of our soul-skins – a pelt that enveloped us and the wild and natural world – at least until we were told that there were really only four seasons to a year, and that women themselves really only had three seasons – girlhood, adulthood, and old womanhood. And that was supposed to be that. But we cannot allow ourselves to sleepwalk wrapped in this flimsy and unobservant fabrication, for it causes women to deviate from their natural and soulful cycles and therefore to suffer from dryness, tiredness, and homesickness. It is far better for us to return to our own unique and soulful cycles regularly, all of them, any of them.” –Clarissa Pinkola Estés – Women who Run with the Wolves

I’ve waited for this day, for this moment, my entire life. I woke up this morning and knew that I’d be alone by 9am until 3pm and I absolutely promised myself that I’d spend the entire time writing and reading. My day could be different. I could clean my house, I could visit a friend or talk on the phone. I could treat myself to a movie or go and spend money that I really don’t have. I could have been too lazy to go out to the garage and find the one book that has given me instructions on how to care for my woman psyche. I could have basically tossed out my day, getting no creative work done. But I’ve decided that I can’t live like this anymore. Writing reflections about the world around me is a NEED of mine. It is hard to do during my teaching year. But now, during my summer, I am wide open to put my thoughts down and believe that if I do this all summer, I will be a happier woman for it. These alone hours belong to La Loba.

She has something to say and she is damn tired of being leashed up! It is no fun being a wild wolf in urban Highland Park, tethered to Clara, the old pecan tree out back, realizing that as much as you wait in line for Angelina’s attention, you were actually never in line, because she never gives you the time of day. So La Loba ain’t fucking around anymore. These summer days belong to her and she has hung her “Don’t knock, leave a Message” sign on her front door and has turned on her answering machine.

When I am not possessed by La Loba, I am running a mile-a-minute! A member of SGI-USA, I work daily with Buddhist members to understand Buddhist philosophy, to appreciate the work of our mentor Daisaku Ikeda, and to commit their lives to working for the happiness of their family and neighbors. A mother of two, I am breastfeeding one, which means a lot of things to me: time, physical energy and commitment. My six-year old son, well, he is an illustrator, author, aerospace engineer and philosopher trapped in a 1st grader’s body and just keeping up with him, wipes me out. As for my beautiful husband, I only want to give to him, all that he gives to me and for him to be as happy as I am. And as a classroom teacher and adult committed to Dual Immersion education, I use my Buddhist practice to believe that the universe will respond to all of the communities efforts to create a humane space for children to become bilingual. And as a friend and member of the Highland Park community, I want all to know what a treasure their life is and that they’ll never get another shot at this lifetime at least, so why not go all out? As a family member, well, our family is the best place for us to do our “human revolution” (Buddhist term describing a fundamental process of inner transformation whereby we break through the shackles of our "lesser self," bound by self-concern and the ego, growing in altruism toward a "greater self" capable of caring and taking action for the sake of others--ultimately all humanity). My family, my mirror. Whatever being with my family brings up for me is absolutely material for me to take a good look at myself and find out what I can change about myself so that I am unshakably and unconditionally connected to them in love and acceptance. So how does a woman, attempting to accomplish all of this give some time to her wild self? Her nature? Her beginning and her soul?

In my case – it is setting time aside for my creative life. And today, is the first in my life that I feel like I have been very deliberate about it. So, let the wildness begin and my Loba thanks me for it…

Saturday, March 27, 2010

10 digit Portrait


my eyes open
Ayende cooing
balancing act begins

Leo next
Then Amir, Then Garrett call
Five arrive for weekly chanting

nine people in the house
they fill-up, one by one they leave
I do too
finally, arrive to write

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

I'm back... from "la cotidianidad", from the street, from the outside, back to "La Loba". How will I create my chain to string across my driveway, that says, don't walk up this driveway, definitely don't knock on my door, because I am in my room, with my key and definitely do not want to be disturbed. Clarissa... the stone child is calling.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

A few of my favorite things about breastfeeding...or not!

Ayende










Washing breast pump equipment in warm, soapy water...








Boiling for five minutes...















Drying...

















Eating nutritious meals

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Departures...


I cry. Knew this moment was coming intellectually, had no idea how my heart would react. Sunday night, 6pm. Must get Ayende’s things ready for daycare tomorrow. His first day. Buy the carseat base for Leo’s car. HELLO? Sunday night. All of the stores close at 7pm. Google: Peg Pérego Car Seat Base. Craigslist LA posting in Pasadena. Car seat base AND car seat for $50.00. Buy it. Run to Vons. Forget Babies R’ Us for now. Go down the baby aisle. Happy to be there! I HAVE A BABY!!! After three months, I still have to remember to be in the moment. Look into the dark eyes. Touch the soft skin. Caress the small head. Kiss on the lips. I made him. I’m still making him with my milk.

I write Aunty Moo a note: “Aunty Moo, Here is my precious baby boy Ayende! Please handle him with love, embraces, milk, laughter, rocking and joy. You are now part of our family as a caretaker of Ayende. Welcome to the journey. Here are a few treats for the way… Sincerely, Angelina, Ayende’s Mom.” I include alphabet vanilla cookies and tea biscuits. I cry, hard, as I write it. My heart is overwhelmed with emotion.

Then I write to Carmen: " Amiga, I need your encouragement right now. Ayende is going to his first day of daycare tomorrow and my heart is breaking. I'm not worried, just feel sad that my beautiful boy will be in someone else's arms tomorrow. I know this is my rite of passage, but the grief is a tidal wave drowning my heart. Love you sis and know you understand."

Carmen writes back: "Just got home from a birth dear heart, so did not see this yesterday. I more than understand sister heart. But we know from the last time that this is the best thing for you and your family in the long run. Hold on sister. I will be sending tons of love your way today and will also light a candle for you."

I sit in the office filling out final paperwork for Leo to take to Aunti Moo, the daycare provider, and sob quietly. I don't want Amir or Leo to hear me. I feel stupidly out of control. I walk to the living room to add last things to what seems like Ayende's luggage for a trip abroad. I eventually get in bed with Ayende. Suddenly his soft skin smells like the best thing on earth to me. He looks like the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. I gladly offer him milk and hold him oh, so close. And I tell myself that I have to trust. I must trust, or this will never work. I fall asleep with baby in my arms.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

A small gesture... For Myself!


The truth is, is that I've never known how to manage my finances. Friends who have watched me buy things I could not afford or struggle with my feast and famine tendencies for the last twenty years, can attest to this. It has been my determination for the last seven years to work out my finances. I can say, finally, that I've made some progress. I am not a crazy spender anymore... This Christmas, I decided to spend most of my present money on Amir, who passionately believes in Santa Clause and getting most of his Christmas list, and then decided to buy Ayende, Leo and myself one thing each. I bought myself the entire Twilight series in hardback, but then Breaking Dawn was quickly claimed by Julieta, and New Moon was quickly taken by Amir. So, I'm left with Twilight and Eclipse (which I'm reading for the second time). I'll borrow Amir's, Breaking Dawn, when I'm done. So here is the small gesture for myself. Because the physical toll of having a newborn weighs on me everyday, I take a super, duper hot bath every night. It relieves the aches and pains. I usually read magazines in the tub, but am reluctant to do so now, after I discovered the flakes of print peel off of the pages when I get it wet. So the other night, I was tempted to take my brand new, hardback Eclipse book in the tub. Something inside of me, that voice that instructs us on acceptable behavior, resisted taking this brand new beauty into my steaming bath because the pages would shrivel and the cover would bend with humidity. As I make so many adult adjustments to what I am "supposed to do", which I will gladly do, because that is what is good for my marriage and my children, this particular should do, just seemed not worth it. I got my book, took off the dust cover, eased myself into the tub that turned my legs bright red, and with soaking hands, grabbed my book, making sure to leave wet hand prints on the front and back cover, and rebelliously turned the pages, making sure to get the corners nice and wet. This morning, I picked up my book and noticed the front cover was hopelessly contorted, and it was hard to find what page I was on because most of the pages are creased or withered now. I felt happy. While most of my life is shared with those closest to me, my small gesture of taking my brand new book into the bath, and its resulting condition, remind me that there are still parts of my life, which are my own. I get to do whatever I want to do with those spaces and I have to answer to no one.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Blue Moon


Driving to abuelita's to make buñuelos... We get on the 5 from the 110... It is, as my Mom used to say, "bumper to bumper". We get off on Broadway and then head south on Spring Street. Trying to figure out if we're going to get on the 101 to the 5 and Leo says, with a twinkle in his eye, "Or do you just want to take 7th to Santa Fe?" Might as well have said, "Or do you want to take a trip down memory lane?" We get to Alameda and 7th and I first see a sign that says, "Legalize LA". Wow, that's deep, I think. Then as we turn, it says, "American Apparel, una compañia rebelde". Hmmm. I thought they were a sweatshop, or accused of being one, Leo says that they probably still are but just have better ventilation or lighting. Hmmm. Weird. Next up. Greyhound Station and all of the Crucero buses sitting in the yard. Wow. It's been A LONG time since I've been on a Greyhound bus or have taken one of the Crucero buses to catch a bus or plane in Tijuana. We turn from 7th street onto Santa Fe and that is when I see the glorious full moon, and a Blue Moon at that. We haven't had a Blue Moon on New Year's Eve in twenty years. Leo pulls over, Amir and Ayende, snoring in the backseat, and I snap a picture. As we continue driving down Santa Fe on New Year's Eve, a man holding a huge piñata and waiting for the bus, I see a fireman in the window of the Vernon firestation washing dishes, Leo tells me about the article in the LA Times today that described the Florencia gang and the neighborhood, "Man. The way they described it was like hell. I went to school with some of those guys and I know their neighborhood and it is not like they describe it in the paper." Reminds me of when I asked Ana Marina about living in El Salvador during the war and she said, it was no big deal, you just lived day by day. So, is it as bad as an outsider says it is? Or is it nuestra cotidianidad misunderstood by an outsider? Avoiding either the drunk drivers or the clowns who don't know how to drive, we finally get to South Gate, where I proceed to stand for the next four hours, frying buñuelos, talking men and religion with my sister-in-laws and convincing my five year old that he really does not need a DS and they're really not that cool... Feliz Año Nueve compañeros... Our Blue Moon is a sign of all of the unusual prosperity that we will all enjoy in 2010.