Smoke signals…
You have to live the life you were born to live…
— the Reverend Mother to Maria in The Sound of Music
This week I noticed that the big top is going up,
along Pacific Boulevard,
in preparation for the Cirque du Soleil production,
of Kooza…
Having been to a previous performance a few years ago,
I received an announcement for early bird tickets…
I was just about to hit the purchase button,
when I got the message,
It’s already been taken care of…
And it’s going to be better than you can imagine right now…
Due to my heightened sensitivities,
I’ve never been a regular coffee drinker…
A regular coffee has the same effect on me,
as a line of coke,
so I save it for special occasions,
when I want to open up pathways,
for creative purpose…
I like to get through my days without dependency,
on external stimulants,
and I find that I enjoy things more,
when they aren’t available,
all of the time…
But yesterday the funniest thing happened…
I walked down to the Portuguese bakery,
in my neighbourhood,
to get my bottle of Standard milk for making yogurt,
and as I was standing there I thought,
I’d love a latte…
But then I remembered my one tonne challenge commitment,
to not buying a coffee,
unless I have my own cup,
and I hadn’t planned on the arrival,
of this thought,
so I wasn’t prepared,
with the right equipment…
Just as I put the desire in my pocket for later,
the son of the bakery man said,
Would you like a coffee???
I said,
I’d was thinking that I’d like one,
but I didn’t bring my own cup,
and I don’t like to drink out of disposables…
He said,
Well there’s a double latte waiting right over there for you,
if you want it…
This customer wanted an Americano,
clearly you’re the one wh0 wanted the latte,
and certainly I aim to please…
I sat down right there and enjoyed the surprise,
just like the doctor ordered…
But what I realized later,
was that two shots,
of espresso,
on an empty stomach,
is dynamite for my system…
I had anxiety,
and shakes,
for the rest of the day…
I felt like a ship,
being tossed about the sea,
and I had trouble staying grounded…
When I woke up this morning,
with that feeling,
of I’m going to need a coffee today,
I made myself move on,
caffeine free,
and today was a better day…
On Tuesday I was at Dressew buying some fabric…
I asked for six metres,
of an aubergine linen blend,
at the cutting table…
But as the woman was unwrapping the fabric,
I thought that maybe four,
would be enough,
for my intents and purposes…
After she made the cut,
folded up my piece,
and went to write up the amount,
she put down her head,
looking up at me,
all worried,
and asked,
How many metres did you want???
Because I only cut four…
I quickly reassured her and said,
I said six but I thought four…
so you’re better than perfect…
She heaved a sigh of relief and said,
Thank you,
you’re a dear…
Another woman at the table laughed and said,
So you were interfering with her…
It’s a good thing you wear that Bell helmet…
or you might have blown her mind…
I walked away from the cutting table,
blushing,
because I been busted,
as I felt the flick of four switches,
and a power surge,
right then and there…
But you give me something I can feel... (photo: Starshine)
Rusty kettle…
By this time new houses had been built along Fifth Street,
some of them no better than shacks in those depression years…
In the worst of these lived a very poor woman with young children and no husband…
Her name was Mrs. K—
One day she gave birth to a baby,
and word soon got about that it was a Chinese baby…
Wo Lee was blamed…
“Just imagine,” someone said, making a face, “With that smelly Chinaman!”
Mother was having her Uptown friends for tea…
“Does he ever take a bath?”
“How could she do it?”
“Free vegetables, I suppose.”
“I hope she asked for more than that!”
Well Wo Lee,
whether you paid with free vegetables or more than that,
I’m glad you found solace for all of your years of hard work and loneliness,
and I’m glad Mrs. K— found a friend to help her face the years of hardship and despair…
And I hope you did what men and women do not once but many times to make that Chinese baby,
and that there was joy and gladness in doing it…
— in Wo Lee Stories by John Norris
Yesterday afternoon there was a street party a few blocks over from my house,
and I went for the first time since Little Gem was baby…
The neighbours have made jokes with me for years about the firemen that show up for the event,
and have been prone to asking,
don’t you want to go over and check out their equipment…
Sometimes I find this funny,
and sometimes I don’t…
Yesterday I wasn’t in a laughing mood,
but I decided to walk over just to check out the frequency I was holding,
and my growth…
What I found was that I no longer have a feeling of connection to that gathering of neighbours…
I feel like I’ve more than outgrown the situation,
and my surrounds…
And on this particular day,
having every second person ask me,
Where are your girls???
was something like grinding salt over my open heart surgery…
Starshine and Little Gem have no interest or connection to this place any more either…
Their orbits are looking to circle in another direction…
Little Gem has a certain fond memory,
and it is for the time when she was a baby and I would pick her up from her father’s,
on that same block…
She often tells me,
You used to wrap me up so that I could lay back in the stroller and see the moon…
The air was cool on my face but I was so cozy in my blanket…
I wish we could do that again,
because I loved that time with you,
and the feeling of walking home safe in the darkness…
Having lived in the same neighbourhood through many trials and tribulations,
has given me a sense of what it feels to want to be anonymous,
with your own story,
that nobody knows,
and no one can talk about,
with their pointing fingers…
I work hard not to gossip about others,
but I found myself doing that very thing about a young single mother who lives around the corner…
I had to remind myself that this isn’t how I want to be in the world,
and that many things are best left unsaid…
Many people,
even those who go to yoga class,
aren’t aware of the fact that there are mouths between each of our toes,
and that these mouths need to breath,
or the air gets stale,
and sticky…
If you find your feet have morning breath,
hold your big toe and its next door neighbour in between your fingers,
and walk them back and forth with a sniff, sniff, sniff…
Then pull them apart with a great big,
Ahhhhhh…
Repeat with each mouth along the top of both feet…
You’ll be amazed at the results over time,
if you keep this up…
You might not remember that your whole body is a lung…
So breath deep down into the very bottom of yourself,
and let it all out with a song…
Where it began, I can't begin to knowin'... (photo: Starshine)
Cranky pants…
Many people think that there is only one kind of exercise;
exercise for the body…
This is important but there are many other kinds of exercise…
For example, when I go to my violin class my teacher asks me to practice everyday…
Exercise can keep something in your memory,
like a language that you keep learning so you have it when you are older…
Experiencing many different things,
easy and hard,
can develop the soul…
Not only can experiencing different things develop your soul,
but physical exercise can too…
Skiing with friends or going for a walk with your family are great ways to stay healthy and to socialize…
Exercise can be fun, boring, easy or hard,
but it is important for learning and your health…
— Starshine, March 3, 2009, 9 years old…
Sometimes when I’m wandering around the house,
not sure what to do,
I find these little treasures…
Words and images my children have put to the page,
and when I ask them,
Where on earth did you amazing creatures come from???
Little Gem is always quick to say,
not even taking time to look up from the industry of her drawing,
Remember Mama,
you made me in your belly,
with a little bit of Papa’s sperm…
But let’s not talk about that…
It’s a bit gross…
Today I was feeling at loose ends…
I wasn’t sure why,
or what I needed to do,
so I waited…
I did some dishes,
and then I knew…
I filled my water bottle,
got dressed in a polka dot skirt,
a tank top,
and some fishnet stockings,
then walked down the street to flamenco class…
They say that the eyes are windows into the soul,
and that the hips are the doorway…
The workshop I went to today is estilo de mujer,
and we spent at least an hour forming circles and rainbows with our hips…
All of the tightness in my knees,
and hips disappeared…
Then we practiced floreos…
Anytime I get to lay down for exercise I know I’m in the right place…
Practicing floreos on the floor means that your hands and forearms have to do all the work on their own,
without relying on the back muscles…
You have to isolate the focus of your effort to get the job done properly…
As I lay there I thought about how the forms of exercise that draw me are complex…
Although I enjoy simplicity,
I prefer experiences layered with rich music,
metaphor,
detail,
and a great outfit…
What becomes effortless for me even when I am being pushed to challenge all of my capacities,
and sweating like there’s no tomorrow,
is dance…
And when I’m dancing I get the feeling that this is one of the things that I was made for…
When I was growing up I had a friend who was tall and skinny,
with breasts that sprang so large from out of nowhere that she had a reduction when she was nineteen…
She grew up in Seattle,
so the only time we’d see each other was during Summer holidays at her family’s lakeside cabin…
After these times together I always felt like I should find a way to change my shape,
and look like her…
I couldn’t see,
and didn’t appreciate what I’ve been given until a few summers ago,
when this same friend and I were laying in the sun in our underwear,
and she made the remark,
You’re lucky to have a woman’s body…
This surprised me,
and began a process of correcting some of my thinking about myself…
That same day I was stung by a wasp three times on my right arm,
my friend rolled my big red car into the door of her step-father’s garage,
and I cut the cord that had tied us together,
for certain life lessons…
In the moments after I gave birth to Starshine,
the attending midwives said,
Look what you just did…
You pushed out a big baby with very inconsistent,
short contractions…
You must have a very efficient uterus…
As they said it I saw something and said,
I’m going to have my third baby in turquoise water,
and I want you both to be there…
They said,
You just had your first baby,
why are you already talking about your third???
I said,
I don’t know,
it just came up…
And I didn’t push it away…
Learning what we were created to do,
and be,
is an ongoing process of remembering…
And it isn’t always clear…
But when we get those moments of insight,
it helps make the darkness more bearable,
and easier to trust…
And maybe even exciting…
When I got back from flamenco I brought a classmate with me,
because I’m altering her bata de cola,
and I needed her to try it on with the adjustments I’d made…
As I went out onto my back porch to get a chair for her to stand on,
a neighbour from across the way called my name and said,
The baby was born,
three minutes ago…
Everything went well…
And it’s a boy…
My classmate hasn’t had children,
but she’d been at the hospital yesterday to visit a new born baby,
and wondered why it is that some women are all hooked up to medical equipment and asking for pain relief,
and other women labour at home with no need for intervention…
She wanted to know how I managed the pain…
I told her that I got my period when I was ten years old,
and that even though my father was a pharmacist,
and my mother had prescriptions to suppress her menstrual pain,
I wasn’t offered any relief until I got into my late teens,
and I couldn’t afford to miss so much school…
I told her how I learned to ride the pain…
To go into it,
with a knowing that it isn’t permanent,
and it has a purpose…
I used that prior experience when I was giving birth…
My uterus had had all of that practice contracting every month for twenty years,
so it knew just what to do without superfluous effort…
The thing about giving birth is that the pain is productive,
at the end of it you have a brought a new person into the world,
and you are no longer who you once were…
And this gift of remembering what I was created to do,
with my woman’s body,
is the female equivalent of a World Cup victory…
And when neighbours call across fences,
heralding the cry of a new baby,
heard through the floorboards of an old wood house,
the times that are a changing,
stand still,
and nothing else matters,
in the big scheme of things…
At the whispering stream... (photo: Starshine)
Canuck'd 