Starfish

So it happened over February vacation. I was at a Panera with the kids and a friend. I had one of THOSE MOMENTS where just for a second, you look up, look around, and SEE something. Trash. Lots of it. And Panera is hardly a wasteful establishment as American capitalism goes. They have reusable flatware, mugs, and silverware for their eat-in customers. But fountain drink cups, napkins, chip bags all get thrown away. Yes there's recycling for bottles, but in the moment I asked an employee where I could recycle Isabella's juice cup, and she respnded that there wasn't a place for that, I looked around. And I was horrified. Think about it. That was one twenty minute shot of what goes on in hundreds of thousands of resturants EVERYDAY. That made me start to think of exactly how much garbage (much of which could be recycled) goes into landfills minute by minute. And then I thought about the needed paradigm shift. People bringing a reusable cup with them to more than just a coffee joint. Not just a few people, EVERYONE.

Now, don't get me wrong, recycling is important. But it is also a carbon-heavy, inefficient, imperfect PART of the solution. It is not the answer. In our culture, so much of our economy depends on the manufacture of disposable items that really MUST be replaced by reusable items. Our enviromental survival depends on breaking the conumerist attitudes that say we can buy new things cheaply and more easily than reusing what we have. There are lobbies that prevent the government from creating incentives for us to ensure that our children will have a home to live in at all. But I can't change those things all by myself, or change them right now. But  today, on Earth Day's big 4-0, I'll tell you what I can do: REDUCE consumption, REUSE what I have, RECYCLE as much as possible.

I've always identified as a 'crunchy' type, even in 6th grade, before I knew what recycling was, I'd doodle 'peace, love, recycle' symbols on my notebooks. I was raised to compost, to be frugal, to revel in the natural world. So as an adult, I already did alot of the 'obvious' green things: energy efficient lightbulbs, composting, carrying a mug and water bottle around. Bridger is in cloth diapers (LOVE OUR CLOTH!!), and our town charges for trash but recycling is free, so we recycle like crazy at home. Last year we joined a CSA, to support local organic food, and reduce the carbon-footprint of our diet.

Since my MOMENT though, I've made a few more changes. Like stopping using paper towels. I cut up receiveing blankets and we use those instead. I'm buying as much clothing second-hand as I can find. We are buying whole melons and pineapples and cutting them at home instead of buying the pre-cut, pre-packaged fruit at the store. I'm using alot less 'help from the store' - it really doesn't take that much more time to make things from scratch, there is so much less packaging, and it tastes better too. And this might be TMI, but I switched to sea-sponge tampons. In at least 25 years of monthly cycles, feminine products have got to make a huge enviromental impact. The eww-factor is really not that bad. No worse than wiping a baby's shitty behind...

At one point Rob asked if I thought not using paper towels was really going to make a difference, and I was reminded of that story about starfish on a beach. Thousands of starfish were tossed up onto a beach after a storm. A person is walking on the beach, throwing them back into the sea, one by one. A passer-by asks why, what difference could it possibly make. And as another starfish is returned to the sea, the person says simply, 'it made a difference to that one'. Alone we can not change world. But we share this earth with 7 billion other people. If each one of us took personal responsibility for our actions and the impact we have on the earth and each other, we could alter the course of the future. If we each examine our lives, and find one thing a month, week, even day to change that will reduce consumption, reuse what we have, or recycle what we no longer need, we will make a difference. We must make a difference. The time is now.

Thinking of Angels

Often enough in baby-lost blog land it's been commented that the not-babylost crowd really 'doesn't know how we'd survive it'. And I've said that myself. I can't imagine how I would go on if one of my children were to die before me. And I've also heard it discussed (and thought to myself) what might be worse, losing a term infant, a young child, a teenager about to step off into the world, or an adult child. I find those conversations a bit useless, it's all fucking awful. Pain should never be compared - it all hurts.  And, as a human mother who has survived my share of heartache and trauma, I know that when I say 'I don't know how I'd survive', what I mean is that I don't want to have to find out.

And universe, I want to die before my children, but not before they still need me. Picky, I know.

April 3rd is a cruel day in my opinion. Two years ago, a baby named Baker was almost born, but then died. To labor and not come home with a live baby, unimaginable. Twelve years ago, my childhood friend Robert was stabbed once in the back outside a night club. He fell to the ground and bled out. There were over 50 on-lookers but to date no-one has been brought to justice for his murder. He was 18. So tonight I am sending so much love to these families, marking yet another year gone by.

I have to believe that the animus that is a human spirit continues after the body ceases to function. I know that in the months after Robert's death I would sometimes feel him with me, so close it was palpable. I know I see Baker in my son's laughter. I've taught my daughter that in the retelling of stories and memories we keep the spirit of those who have passed on alive within us. On the eve of Easter, I'd like to think that I can keep these two spirits alive in a way, resurrected from faint memory.

And I pray that I will never know the sorrow of a childless mother, walking the earth without her heart here on earth. And I pray that I will always be humble and human enough to know that I can become that woman, so quickly, so easily. So I am thankful that my heart walks this earth with me. For now.

Captain Obvious

One must first be lost in order to be found.

The brilliant and profound C has once again sent my mind-cogs into action. Yesterday as we sat with toddler chaos all around, and coffee to soothe the ragged edges, she began to muse about how much more comfortable she is in her own skin as she walks through life as N's mother. As a mother, you just do what needs to be done. And after a while what used to be gross, or awkward, or someone else's job just gets done, or is ignored. Because it just is. Screaming child in store? Check. Shirtless baby on a (thankfully) 70 degree October day coming into YOUR doctor's appointment because they puked all over themselves and the car and you were too sick to remember a change of clothes? Check. Grabbing visible boogers from the nostril entrance? Check. What once would have cringe-inducing, or embarrassing, we just do. And that kind of comfort in one's life is such a revelation.

And that made me realize: it took me becoming not myself to truly become myself. The early days and months of motherhood truly made me not myself. At birth I transformed from the vessel that grew another human being to the being that was now charged with sustaining this human being. There was no room for Mira at that time. I was just Mother. This phenomenon was not relegated to just the first child either. I so clearly remember, as I began the descent into PPD, thinking out loud 'I was a perfectly competent mother of one child. What the fuck made me think I have any business being a mother of two children?????'. I said this to my mother (god love her). Please, never tell an overwhelmed mother of less children than you have that she has it easy. Guarantee you've just made her feel like shit. (And Mom, you were not the only one who shared that sentiment. You are amazing. I love you and thank you for all of your gifts.) But I digress... I had to learn to be the mother of two children. I had to abandon all that I thought that knew of the mother of Isabella alone, in order to become the mother of Isabella and Bridger. And now, I find, that in delving so deeply into being someone who is not Mira, I have found who I am.

In yoga we talk of duhka, the cause of suffering. It is the sand at the bottom of the glass, that when stirred, makes the water cloudy. It prevents us from seeing the truth of things. A block of marble looks like nothing more than a cube of rock, until the sculptor chips away everything that is not the statue. It is then we see the art within. It is with that intent that yoga aims to unify the body and mind, to quiet the inner chatter so our essence can be found. I find it a little ironic that it was my practice before I returned to the mat that allowed me to find myself. Malasana as I squatted to birth my babies. Ardha Chandrasana while picking up toys. Tadasana to be stern. All before I knew... It makes me wonder how many incarnations of myself I will be privileged enough to discover in the years to come.

Knitting in a Wii World

I think at this point if you don't have a Wii, you know someone who does. With your Wii you can do virtually anything. I like to throw myself off big mountains in the Wii Skii, but not really. So many of us 'talk' to each other on Facebook or Twitter, but it's not real conversation. This blog, the blogosphere, communities, that are real, but they aren't, too. In this world of things that are, but not really, I cling to my illusions of being something real, doing things that are real, embodied in my yarn.

I am a yarn crack whore. Total addict. It's BAD... I just love yarn. I'm certainly partial to wool, but any natural fiber will do. I rarely make it out of a yarn store with empty hands. I have a whole stretch of cabinets to hold the stash, and countless works-in-progress. That's been something I'm working on, a growing edge if you will, actually finishing a project before I cheat on it with some new, softer, knubblier ball of yarn. With my knitter's ADD I've learned to keep to small projects, that give quicker satisfaction, like hats, mittens, or baby gear. Although I swear I'll finish Bridger's baby blanket before he goes to college. Or at least by the time his first child is born.

But beyond the yarn fetish, the physical and spiritual act of knitting is a healing salve for my high-idle self. It forces me to sit, become the process, and enter a quiet space. The actions ofthe needles are quite like the sat-nam in meditation, just the simple quiet focus of breath, or yarn.

As with cooking I find knitting for others to be a nurturing act. I can literally wrap the intended recipient in my love, carried in each stitch.

But even more than any of this I cling to the realness of my yarn. With a strand I can make something of nothing. Knitting is truly alchemy. A series of loops, with a single knot at the beginning. And broken down even further, there is only one stitch - as knits and purls are simply the reverse of each other. A knit garment is a fraud, a shape-shifter. Yet with that ethereal nothingness a myriad of things can be created, things I can feel, touch, breathe into, wear.

Sometimes I question my version of this world. I know that I can look at an object, and call it blue, and someone else may do the same, but does it look the same to them? Is everything I believe to be true experienced by others? Big questions... so overwhelming. So I sit down with my yarn, and make a tangible hold on the world.

Bridger modeling my very first original design:

Floating, Lost

Tonight I feel lost... Somehow, the people of Massachusetts decided that a GOP pretty boy was the right choice... good bye rights... is it just that my generation doesn't know what it is to not have bodily autonomy, so there is apathy at the thought of losing that right? At some level I mourn TK again tonight. I always felt he was MY senator. Now I feel unrepresented. How alien.

Returned home today from a four day tornadic visit to Ohio. Visiting ghosts of a previous life. Seeing babies that look so much like my baby, but grew in some other womb. Knowing now that it was not being A father that was the issue, just being HER father.

Not understanding. Befuddled. Wanting clarity. Going to sit in the dark quiet of my mind now, to let the answers come as they wish.

Presence

Excuses first... Bridger managed to pry the space key off my computer so typing now involves pressing the white sensor just so to get a space. So I've been a bit lazy about anything involved with typing... In the next few days I should have some shots of THE birthday (Bella and Rob share their day), and Christmas. But first, my day, and reflections on the new year. Cause hey, it's my blog :) me me me time!

Yesterday was my 31st birthday. I woke up, and pretty much had one of those 'why am I in this handbasket, and where are we going?' moments. I just couldn't fathom where the last 10 years had gone, how I ended up where I am. As I mused on that feeling throughout the day, I came to the realization that I have spent the bulk of my life waiting for it to happen. I've fallen victim to the 'when' syndrome - I'll be happy when... I get x done, I meet someone, I make more money. Bullshit.

So here is my intention for this next year, more properly for the rest of my life. I will be present. Mindful. Joyous.

And I think the universe agrees... Went to lunch at PF Chang's with a friend from a former life. My fortune read "one must not pursue happiness. one must create happiness".

If I ever need a reminder of why I love my husband, make me read this post...

I never saw myself as the 'marrying type'. Growing up I didn't fantasize about my wedding, or envision my life as a married woman. I have always been fiercely independent, not wanting to rely on anyone but myself. After Isabella was born, I dated a little, but as she morphed into a toddler, I found myself being really comfortable with the idea of it just being me and her, together always. I didn't need a man, didn't want one. Just thought I'd have a 'friend' around, so as to not always have to rely on a BOB. And then I met Rob. And found myself wanting to share my life with him.

Recently he got in a Facebook shit fest with a woman who insisted as the wife, she is automatically, always RIGHT. That got Rob going, and at one point in the exchange, he wrote this about our marriage:

I thought the JOP at our wedding said it very well; it's not about who is up and who is down, nothing to do with being even. That's impossible. So the best way to surpass the notion that one spousal partner is in a stronger position is to think that way. Financial earning power has nothing to do with this balance either, because if a marriage is going to work both partners contribute something meaningful that goes beyond money. I make more money than Mira at the moment, but she raises our children most of the time and cleans my underwear. And she works weekends to get our ski passes, to which I also contribute by raising the children while she works. So what she does, even though it doesn't bring actual money in, has tremendous value. I think the bottom line is that both partners work together to become greater than the sum of their parts in a successful marriage. And eventually I suspect that once the kids are in school Mira will probably earn more than me because she's ambitious and smart and has boobs and in my profession even the really good engineers top out at around 100k-125k. I have no problem with that because like I said, it's not about keeping it even.

I so needed to hear that. There are times when I feel like my time, my work, is less valued because there is little to no monetary value attached to it. To know that my partner values our life machinery, and what we both put in to make it work was exactly the balm I needed. And the bewbs comment was Rob's snark :) But really, his comment showed me how my husband truly lives our vows, day to day. It was a gentle, loving reminder for me to have that same faith. In the months after our wedding, I often felt like being married was like walking through the world in a hug, silently supported in love. I had forgotten that feeling, and his words brought it back for me.

From our vows:

Will you love and respect her, be honest with her always, and work by her side to achieve the things you both value and dream of, so you can genuinely share your lives together?

...my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.

I will love you through good times and bad times, through joy and through sorrow. I will be understanding, and trust in you completely. Together we will face all of life's experiences and share one another's dreams and goals. I promise I will be your equal partner in a loving, honest relationship.

Squee...