Saturday, March 19, 2011


No Other Way said a rather prophetic poster on a wall a while ago. and trust you me, the way i've been trying, if there had been another way, i surely would have found it by now. but it seems the universe rests on laws that cannot be trifled with. and here is one:

the only way to make room for the new is to let go of the old

after five and a half years (five and a half years!!!!!!!!!!), i am ready, my dear, dear readers, to say good-bye to this space. you have been my good friends on the journey of life, you have seen me, heard me, supported me, held me and witnessed me, and i would not be the person that i am today if it had not been for you. thank you. for the love. for being there. take care of yourselves, and may we meet again!


Thursday, March 17, 2011

day 9: the little prince

So the little prince tamed the fox. And as the hour of his departure drew near —

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It's your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."

And then he added: "Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.


And he went back to meet the fox.

"Goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, it's very simple: You can only see well with your heart; the essential is invisible to the eye."

"The essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would remember.

"It is the time you have spent on your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have spent on my rose — " said the little prince, so that he would remember.

"People have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."

"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would remember.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

day 8: japan

tonight, from 8 to 9, a one-hour meditation for japan., using tonglen. do you want to join me?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

day 7: lovingkindness

may i be happy
may i be safe
may i be healthy
may i be peaceful

may you be happy
may you be safe
may you be healthy
may you be peaceful

Monday, March 14, 2011

day 6: etymology of passion

from L.L. passionem (nom. passio) "suffering, enduring," from stem of L. pati "to suffer, endure," meaning "strong emotion, desire" is attested from late 14c., sense of "sexual love" first attested 1580s; that of "strong liking, enthusiasm, predilection" is from 1630s. The passion-flower so called from 1630s.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

day 5: manifesto

i am a writer. writing is what i do. it's what i have always done. i wrote before i knew how to write, and i will continue to do so long after i forget how. i write what i think, what i feel, what i do, what i see, what i hear, what i sense. i write what i know and what i don't know. i write the scent of spring flowers and the furry feel of moss under my hand. i write as i speak. i write as i dream. i write awake and i write asleep. i write through pain, through joy, through confusion. i write through the past and the future. i write to see. i write to hear. i write to remember. i write through war into peace and back. i write even, or maybe especially, when i don't write. i write in books, i write in pads, i write on napkins, on old envelopes, on the backs of election lists, on scraps of paper, on toilet tissues, on shopping lists, on leaves, on the bark of trees. and if i have none of these to write on, i will write on the inside edge of my heart, i will write in the creases of my liver. i will write on my skin. i will write on yours too if you let me. i will write on the clouds in the sky and the shells in the sand. and as i write, the world's breath becomes my breath, flowing through my arm, ink off my pen.

and this is the only thing that god has ever asked of me. the only thing, in return for the bounty of life. just this. to sit down. every day. pick up a pen. and write. because i am a writer. because she has made me so.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

between days 3 and 4

(or how going to bed early may not always be the best option)

yesterday was rough. it started in the morning with a fine for burning a red light, moved on right through the cancelled hunt for treasure in the park to the hunt for lice on isabelle's head (those of you who are familiar with the length, curliness and thickness of isabelle's hair as well as the distance between the teeth of a nit-picking comb will appreciate that the biblical camel and eye of the needle expression had some serious competition here), a massive yeast infection, toini's 'hit everything that moves and everything that doesn't' mode, and the start of my menstruation, and ended where all such days end: in a massive meltdown.

as a result of which, and following a long communal cry, we were all asleep by 8.

... and some of us were awake again at 1 ...

so... i read about the earthquake in japan. did some work. took a bath. had a snack. read a chapter of einstein's theory of relativity (seriously, if that doesn't put you to sleep...), and a few chapters of a novel. wrote a poem. had another snack. did some more work. wrote a blog post.

please tell me again: what do you guys do with your insomnia?

Thursday, March 10, 2011

day 2

"Should you want to contain something, you must first deliberately let it expand. Should you want to weaken something, you must deliberately let it grow strong. Should you want to eliminate something, you must deliberately allow it to flourish."
Tao Teh Ching

this quote feels very important, although i am not entirely sure what it means. but whatever it is, it is true. and it is happening right now.

oh, and some beautiful music for today...

Wednesday, March 09, 2011


today marks the start of an exciting and scary journey. i am going to do a lent fast for forty days. in practice it means that for the next forty days, i will be following these sobriety practices:

1. Do something good for someone else every day (either financially or through action)
2. Meditate, chant or pray for at least 15 minutes every day
3. Listen to a beautiful piece of classical music every day
4. Refrain from killing (including flies, mosquitoes, etc.). (in this context, i signed up for the
30-Day Vegan Workshop) (... to get over my fly-killing habits...)
5. Refrain from saying anything untrue, speaking ill of another person and swearing
6. Refrain from bingeing, snacking, alcohol, cigarettes and drugs
7. Refrain from stealing, in the widest meaning of the word
8. Refrain from watching television
9. Be very selective with internet (am still working on a list of acceptable websites to visit, and an acceptable frequency...)

10. Refrain from purchasing anything (except the strictly necessary)

it's day one, 9:30 am, and i'm already having a really hard time. then again, maybe that's exactly when this is hardest, at 9:30 am on day one.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

women's day

For all the amazing women in my life, a dare from VisionaryMom:

"Your Dare for this week... Walk Like an Amazon Woman

Whenever you are out walking, whether to the store, on a hike, taking your kidlets to school.... imagine yourself super tall, incredibly strong, powerful. Let that savage bold amazon woman blood flow through you. Hold your head up high. View the world from the perspective of being 7 feet tall. Breathe in the powerful energy all around you. Let it tingle all the way to your toes. Feel the vibration of courage, freedom, boldness moving through your own body."

i really need that today... how about you?

Monday, March 07, 2011

ode to king carnival


The tender hearts (by Jacques Brel)

there are those whose heart is so wide
that you enter it without knocking
there are those whose heart is so wide
that you can only ever see half of it

there are those whose heart is so fragile
that you could break it with one finger
there are those whose heart is too fragile
to live like you and me

they have eyes full of flowers
eyes on the verge of fear
fear of missing the train
to Paris

there are those whose heart is so tender
that little birds use it to nest
there are those whose heart is too tender
half-men and half-angels

there are those whose heart is so vast
that they are always on a journey
there are those whose heart is too vast
to live without illusions

they have eyes full of flowers
eyes on the verge of fear
fear of missing the train
to Paris

there are those whose heart is on the outside
and who have no choice but to offer it
their heart is so much on the outside
that they are constantly using it

This one here has his heart on the outside
and so fragile, and so tender
That I curse the dead trees
that are not able to hear it

He has eyes full of flowers
eyes on the verge of fear
fear of missing the train
to Paris

Friday, March 04, 2011

magical encounter

Photobucketgo out into the woods. go out into the woods. go out into the woods.


here is what to love about morning mist in march: you can be almost certain it will melt under the march sun. on the calendar, march is called 'expect'. that's a promise, isn't it?

Wednesday, March 02, 2011