You are currently browsing the monthly archive for May, 2007.
and sometimes I’m lucky and I actually receive the answer and understand its meaning.
I worked steadily and painfully along on my second draft of my disser outline yesterday but hung onto my comparison game which served only to make the process harder and somewhat demoralizing. This morning, however, I woke up and got right to it and have a solid re-draft to send my disser chair. I am going to marinate on it for a while today and then send it off with my best wishes.
The photograph of my BEAU-TI-FULL daughter and her most HANDSOME son took my breath away last night when I first viewed it (thanks to the BEAU-TI-FULL daughter’s kindness in sending it to her mom). I absolutely love this photo as it captures the joy of life, mother-son love, and pure family connection.
some say the heavens. All I know is – prayer occupies an important place in my life; my every day life. Blame it on my adoptive family’s ultraconservative fundamentalist religious (organized religion that is) upbringing, if you must assign blame.
Over the years I have shed and rejected much, if not most, of the hell-and-brimstone rhetoric spewed from the preachers’ mouths who stood behind the Sunday morning (Sunday evening and Wednesday night) pulpit. I have, however, held onto the prayer thing.
There were some years in my late teens and twenties when I even let go of prayer. Actually, it was more like I believed even more in the ousting of myself from God because of my chosen lifestyle which included consorting (carnally and in other much more meaningful ways) with women. I felt sullied. I believed that God put in special earplugs when prayers from sinners such as my lesbian-identified soul were spoken.
During those years of prayer-less-ness, I felt bereft; alone in the Universe so to speak – or not to speak, in prayers at least.
Somewhere along the way I woke up
grew up
reframed renamed
and reclaimed
my faith. As the saying goes my newfangled spirituality wasn’t (and isn’t) “my father’s religion.” Through the years my faith has grown and/or receded depending on what I’ve placed at the head of the line, importance if you will, in my life. Prayer, however, never strays far from the center hub.
I pray when things are rough, when I need direction,
when life is going smoothly, when I am happy,
when I am reminded of my love for my familia,
when I catch a glimpse of the shimmery green of a hummingbird’s tiny bird body,
when the rain drops ping and bounce, hard, off of the west facing skylight,
when I feel grateful for a particular moment in my life, when sadness and grief threaten to sweep me down a river of tears,
when I cannot forgive someone – especially myself,
when I am swirled up and on the hamster-wheel of circular worries and what-if’s, when I crave inner peace and cannot find it on my own,
when I lose faith in my own abilities to cope, when I stand in the reality of needing help,
when I am madder than hell and want to scream so loud that a mountain cracks open,
when I see the depths of human suffering, when I have acted in shameful ways,
when I remember and return to my center. I pray.
Prayer is a constant in my life. Now at the age of 50 I cannot imagine my life without prayer. Prayer is a balm and a comfort to me and I am grateful to claim it as a touchstone in my life.
Yesterday and this morning I have prayed for the ability to let go of my comparison game of my intelligence. I have prayed for the ability to be positive about my disser. I prayed for the ability to step into my hard earned wisdom when it comes to my disser topic. I prayed for the ability to feel how lucky I am.
GS season that is. And so the SO and yours truly were out and about poking around other people’s junk looking to unearth our treasures.
The SO found something special (at least in his mind) for that daughter of mine. I, too, found a few treasures for her.
We had lots of fun.
I laid down in the green pasture
and peace did surround me
but His shield and staff
failed to protect me
some of the days of my life.
So I will lie down
again on a different terrain.
perhaps the mosses
full of life on the top two inches of cold
permafrost
will cushion my back,
while the wild vastness
of the sky that domes above me
performs its magic
on my mind,
offering up a
vision of this world
that does
not require
a shield
nor even a staff
to separate you
from me.
© Jung Leehi 2007
shifting plains, changing
up
the scene -
ery.
Today.
© Jung Leehi 2007
or the bean that wasn’t green. or the story of this red jelly bean’s life. or if I were a bean I’d most likely be this one. not green. not like the other beans who huddle together in great numbers.
don’t get me wrong, the older I grow the more I realize that I do not want to be a green bean or part of the masses. I wouldn’t mind though being respected and appreciated for my contributions and differences in perspective – even if I’m not a green bean. You know what I mean, jelly bean?
On another note altogether, my SO had oral surgery today and is now one tooth-less than he was this morning. Poor guy. As is his way, he is not taking care of himself but insisting that he is just fine even though his body and psyche have been through a trauma. He is trying to gum a banana even as I type… Can we say – infection here we come?
On yet another note, my disser chair is super responsive and has already provided me with feedback on my outline. I am grateful for all of her help and am doubly determined to get this baby birthed.
but who’s counting – at my internship for this academic year. Next Thursday, 5/31, is slated to be my last day for 2006-2007. That is if I can get myself to put in the extra days to make up family and sick leave time.
Today’s photograph was taken earlier today at our catered good-bye luncheon. The two women with me are my primary and secondary supervisors whom I have grown to respect and love.
most delish bean burrito.
Well the SO did good in the gathering of the lunch and as it turns out, dinner, fixins. At first I was a bit dismayed when I spied the flour tortilla package as it was a brand I was unfamiliar with and touted itsself to be “extra thick.”
But I was taught yet another lesson in judging (too quickly) something (yummy this time) by the package or is it don’t judge a person by their appearance or don’t judge a book by its cover?
The brand is Gordita and I filled each tortilla with a generous helping of refried pinto beans, diced white baby onion, sliced black olives, grated shredded sharp chedder cheese, and some spicy salsa, with a dash of granulated garlic. The SO agreed that the resulting product was very very tasty.
I only wish that you could have been here to enjoy it with us.
My silence on this blog so far this month does not denote an emptiness in my life or happenings. On the contrary really as life has been clicking along at a fairly steady, if not urgent, pace.
It is in this month that I secured a dissertation chair. Finally, for real, and no, I’m not hallucinating or joking or dreaming for that matter. Although the professor who has agreed to sponsor my study could, in fact, be considered a dream chair woman – accomplished, bright, generous with her time and attention, super knowledgeable and informed on my topic area, and did I mention that she is an overall wonderful human being? Okay, okay. Maybe I am a bit on the Finally-Secured-A-Real-Life-Dissertation-Chair Cloud Nine. But my enthusiasm, delight, and relief are sincere nonetheless.
May is also the month that I presented my first seminar of what I hope to be many on the topic of racism and psychotherapy. So there was lots of preparation for that event which I am pleased to report was well received by the seminar participants.
I have been going into the BC a lot this month as I have been working an additional day per week to make up for the missed time due to the funeral and injury/illness. So this coming week will be another four days of round-trip BART rides for yours truly but then I have a four day weekend thanks to the Memorial Day holiday. And then I will only have three more days before I conclude this academic year’s internship! Yay, yay, and another Yay!!!
As for this Sunday morning in the Attic, the SO is on one of his hunting and gathering missions at a local grosh. I will then perform my duties as the Cooker of what he has netted in the brown paper bags. I have been craving refried bean burritos. I usually like corn tortillas but for one whole week now I have been jones’ing for a soft flour bean burrito. Go figure. So I am keeping my fingers crossed that the SO will return with the correct ingredients and that I will be gnoshing on some warm comforting burritos later today.
Does anyone know the origin of the term ‘May Day’ when used as a signal for distress – you know like on a ship that’s sinking and the captain calls over a radio, ‘May Day! May Day!?’
There’s also the ‘May Day’ that marks the first day of the month of May, like today. I think there’s a celebration of some sort that involves a maypole (does anyone know exactly what that is) and little girls in dresses dancing around said pole with flowers in their hands and hair. Or maybe that was just a bad dream I conjured up one night…
Anywho. I think that May Day also has something to do with flowers that come after April showers.
I simply do not know. And that, my friends, is only the beginning of what I do not know on this May Day morning here at the Attic. Here are some of my other un-knowings:
* why a landlord raises the rent for long term reliable renters when they’re already charging fair market price;
* why I can’t figure out the metric system;
* whether I will successfully complete my dissertation, in this decade;
* when the Attic’s bathroom will be clean;
* where I will have a cup of coffee this morning as I ground the last of the beans day before yesterday;
* whether I will send a draft of my dissertation questions to my committee’s second reader, today or in this life time; and,
* whether or not I really have a dissertation chair.
As I review today’s little list of un-knowings, I am asking myself how many of their answers/outcomes will really matter in five years. The answer for some of them seems to be an affirmative. Although I probably will not care by then whether or not the Attic’s bathroom ever was cleaned, unless of course, the SO or I catch some horrid disease from the filth…
