Heroes

We were in rush-hour traffic limbo between suburbia and an anti-war protest. Our greasy spoon waiter looked like he'd been transplanted there from a hallucination as he nervously giggled through our order. He entered our ticket into the computer and pivoting back, asked us what we would do if it was the end of the world (whatever that meant to us). We all talked about it and he said, "You ask me why I ask," (we didn't)--dramatic pause--"No reason." There was a moment of innocence where we were all naked together. Bemused, we all set out for San Francisco. At the rally, a guy approached us, and we got into an intimate discussion on what is freedom and what is the root of war and how can we co-exist, considering our differences. None of us really had an agenda beyond listening to each other. We found out later that he was a communist. My little sister (being homeschooled with a Christian curriculum) turned to me and said, "Sis, he's a communist? My books describe them almost like demons. He was nice." There are those moments, when the world as we conceive it drops away, and we are as children, meeting each other.

These are my heroes.

With the Heart

I remember, growing up, hearing that elephants had small brains—that they were unintelligent. There were even jokes about elephants being afraid of mice! Over the years that's been disproved. Yet even today the myth prevails that animals (and children!) don't experience pain or discomfort. Or at least that they're not likely to remember it! I think that minimizes their experience.

Why, just the other day on the t.v. show Mythbusters, Adam and Jamie were testing the myth that goldfish only have a three second memory. People justify giving them such small fishbowls because, by the time they make it all the way around, the scenery will be brand new again!

Jamie first trained his fish to associate a certain color with food. I think it was orange. Once he had accomplished that, he set up a system of separators in the tank with orange holes in varying levels of the walls. This created a maze. At the end was their food. Now, they'd have to be motivated by their memory and conditioning long enough to make it through the maze—and they did! Well, this is not "hard" science, but from my observations, they hit on a truth: that goldfish are smarter than we give them credit for.

So what about our other house pets? What credit do we give them? Sure, having pets gives you a greater understanding of their intelligence and emotional capacity. But do we really consider their needs? Or are they just there for us? They are descendent from wild creatures and share some of their ancestors' characteristics. So let's look at dogs. They were descended from wolves. Wolves are pack creatures, and this is a degree of sociability. What about cats? Besides lions, most are solitary creatures. How does this translate in our pets?

I used to be an out-of-sight, out-of-mind pet owner. I'd make sure they had food and water when I left for work at 7:30 and gave them love when I returned at 5:30. What did they do all day? I wasn't there, but they slept, probably. All I knew was that they were healthy and happy when I got home. However, now I work at home, and that's changed my vantage point tremendously. Now, at 7:30, I can tell when people have left for work by the sounds of dogs' plaintive howling in the neighborhoods. I can see that my cats, through domestication, are much more social than I had thought. In fact, they follow me around the house all day and either "talk" to me when they want to be pet or sleep near me. And one cat, who used to be very antisocial and ill-tempered, has become affectionate!

So, I'm not advocating against pets. They are great teachers. Among other things, they teach us unconditional love and that the world is not homo-centric. However, I don't even work at an animal shelter, but I have crossed paths with numerous abandoned animals. It makes me both angry and sad. Just because animals descended from wild ancestors doesn't mean that they can return to the same life in our modern jungle. They have been domesticated and tamed. So, what I am advocating for is to think before you get a pet. It is a reciprocal relationship. Can you create the environment necessary to fulfill their needs? If they are social creatures, and you will be gone most of the day, can you get two? Do you have the patience and time to train them and socialize with them? If they become ill, can you care for them? Are you willing to be responsible for them for their life spans?

In The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupery, the fox says it best when explaining to the little prince what taming something means….

"My life is very monotonous. I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back to the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat….One only understands the things that one tames. Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends anymore….It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye….Men have forgotten this truth, but you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed."

Can you really respect and advocate for these creatures who do not speak our language? Our pets may be teaching us this universal language of the heart. Are we ready to listen?

Epiphany!

I was on my way to a dentist appointment for Anouk. We left with just enough time to get there. I ride around on empty for 34 miles before I get gas, and I was at about 27. I decided I could probably make it. As we passed a gas station, I had a feeling that I should stop, but I just kept going... I think I just wanted to get the appointment over with -- it was going to cost a lot of money.

I was within a few miles of the dentist, and just about to get on the off-ramp, when my car started to sputter. Shit! However, I coaxed it all the way off the ramp (just like in bowling when I coax the ball out of the gutter). Luckily, there was enough shoulder on Franklin (a busy street) to accomodate my car. And there were two gas stations at the end of the block. The closest one didn't sell gas cans. Fuck. The one across the street sold me one with a gallon of gas for $23! Okay, as if the dentist were not enough. As if our money situation was enough! What else could I do? I should've listened to my intuition (and, cringe, and must I admit, Robley's warning, too?).

So, I had the gas and can. You'd think my problem was solved, right? Maybe I'd just be a few minutes late.... However, I couldn't get it to work. I don't understand physics or the mechanics of things. That's me, right? I like books. That's me, right? Well, when I was forced out of that concept, I found that I could apply myself to the problem and figure it out. I got the general idea of the gas can down. Why was it spilling out everywhere?! I only had 1 gallon! I asked a passerby, and he was more in the dark than I. I stomped my feet. I yelled. I was sad that no-one was stopping to help. I was angry that I couldn't figure it out, that I even got myself into the situation.

I went back to the gas station and asked the clerk to help me. It took him forever to figure it out. But he did. I gas'd the car, rescheduled the appointment and had a good cry.

A week later we were watching Survivor Man. He said something that struck me. He said that people out in the wilderness do what they can until they get to an impass. They feel like they have to choose to go on -- to live, and usually something comes up that drives them to survive.

How easily I gave up! And here I was, in the middle of a city! I don't have to be alone. I don't have to struggle. Thank you, Survivor Man!

This Body

I was born with this one body, but
The skin renewed itself every 14 days,
The blood cells every 90
And the bones, well
They will be all that is left
When this body falls away.

But this body, this body!
It is light; it can skip and splash
Through puddles and laugh.
It is heavy and feels the call of the earthworms.
It creates its own rain.

This body is not moved by simple physics.
This body is moved by: the dawn,
Watching my child sleep and my lover wake up,
Reading in bed, libraries and storytelling,
The vulnerability and audacity of telling your story,
Walkabout, walking, walking bass lines,
The wind in the trees and birds singing on fenceposts,
Chiarascuro and watching things grow,
The smell of the earth,
Giving birth,
God in Me,
Me in God,
Daydreaming,
Those Dolls
Who've absorbed my pain,
And my joy absolved,
Being loved despite my thorns,
Renaissance wo(men) living renegade art,

All art and art in all.

~Jenell Heimbach

Civilized?!

I was sitting in the car with Anouk when all of a sudden we saw a huge hawk being chased by those little black parking lot birds. The hawk then swooped down and landed on the edge of a building. I thought the little birds had pulled out some of it's feathers, because they were flying! But as I looked closer, I noticed that it had a pigeon in it's talons! The hawk was perched so majestically, like a Bald Eagle atop an American flag. And then it bent down and twisted the pigeon's neck and pecked at it's eyes! Anouk and I were fixated. Here we were, in the middle of suburbia witnessing an episode of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. I can almost hear Marlin Perkin's gentle voice. The pigeon was not going gently. Anouk broke me out of my morbid reverie by crying, "I'm going to get a big rock and throw it at it!" She was incensed by the injustice of it.

I think it struck a nerve. This could just as easily be her, unexpectedly plucked from her wholeness - and only to find herself surrounded by people who want to pluck her eyes out.

Hawks and pigeons, please be kind to each other.

My Prejudice: Unveiled

Friday afternoon came in under the radar. I end the week taking Anouk to the river with our homeschool group. I had no money (which normally translates as no plans). Then a friend of mine invited me to go to a class at East West Books called, "How to Become an Irresistible Magnet for Love, Money & Miracles" with Jacqueline Aldana. While this is not something I normally would do (being stubbornly independent), I accepted. It was a nice offering and a good excuse to go hang out with my friend. And, under my breath, maybe I could learn something... The speaker, Jacqueline, was a very happy person. Her cup runneth over. And here, I speak the unspeakable: my prejudice. I cannot stand people who are always happy. I cannot stand the "fake it till you make it" attitude. Don't they know there's suffering in the world?! Don't they know that suffering is the other side of transformation?! Don't they know that it takes a lot of shit and decay to grow a beautiful garden?! Well, I let go of these thoughts so that I could actually hear what she was saying. And basically what it came down to was reprogramming your thoughts. If someone says, "I want you to notice the color BLUE," that's where your consciousness goes. Likewise, if you only notice the negative, the sad and the suffering, that's all you're going to be! And, if you're too stubborn to ask for help, you're not going to get it. I have the strong urge to insert a disclaimer here about how I love my melancholy and don't worry about me becoming all perky and new-agey, but I won't! (Hee-hee) At the end of the evening there was a raffle, and I won her journaling book called The Miracle Manifestation Manual II. And I'm going to commit myself to it! Why not? If not perkiness, it could at least give me an appreciation or understanding of happy people! And, who knows? Perhaps I will even transcend this mortal coil. You'll know I haven't through my continuing MySpace posts, but if you stop getting them, look for another star in the night sky. I'd be the one shaped like a flower growing out of a dung pile!

Book Rating System

I make to-do lists.

And, although it is one of my favorite things to do, reading is not on my list.

What makes it on the list are mostly social obligations and conventions:

housecleaning and maintenance, call so-and-so, send thank you notes,

file taxes, laundry, shower --

things I might opt out of if my friends and family enabled my reading habit.

O.K. obsession.

An indicator of how good a book is -- is how long it takes to read --

and what goes undone.

Here's my rating system:

A 1 DAY READ

Spell-binding!

To-do list? Sleep?

A 2 DAYS READ

Juicy.

The to-do list is buried under piles of laundry and empty cans of green beans and stew eaten cold.

A 3 DAYS READ

Very interesting.

My friends and family have sent out search parties but only found a food-stained to-do list.

TAKES MORE THAN A WEEK

OR LESS THAN A DAY

Suspect.

I might as well do everything on the to-do list, damn-it.

I'm not sure why I'm reading this book.

In desperation I may start multiple books.

You know it's bad when your own thoughts carry you away on permanent vacation

and you reread the same sentence over and over.