Totosh lackles…
Have you ever reached a point in your life where you can’t remember the last time you heard a bird sing???
A neighbour of mine told me that after leaving the family business in her late 40’s,
a place where she has worked since she was a child,
she had to stay home for a while on a ‘medical leave’ and she started to hear the birds sing again…
I always hear the birds sing…
even in the dead of Winter…
This morning they are having a garden party in the bird feeder outside my back window…
I don’t know their names,
but that doesn’t matter,
because we are communicating in bird language…
And Windy has stormy eyes that flash at the sound of lies... (photo: Starshine)
A few years ago I read Hans Christian Andersen’s Thumbeline to my class…
This version is exquisitely illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger…
Then a little lady and gentleman came out of every flower,
all so pretty that it was a joy to see them.
They brought Thumbeline presents,
and the best of all was a lovely pair of wings from a big white fly.
The wings were fastened to Thumbeline’s back,
and now she too could fly from flower to flower.
How happy they all were!
The swallow sat at his nest and sang with all of his might.
But he was sad at heart,
for he loved Thumbeline and never wanted to part with her.
“Good-bye, good bye,” said the swallow,
for it had come to be the season for him to fly away from the warm countries,
far away and back again to Denmark.
There he had a little nest above the window where the man who tells fairy tales lives.
The swallow sang, “Tweet, tweet!” to the man,
and that is how we come to know the whole story.
After I read those words to my class,
they wanted me to read the story AGAIN!!!
I wanted to know if they hear whole stories in birdsong…
They looked at me like I was a total nutbar,
Of course we do, they said,
Don’t you???!!!
Then the next day we went on a field trip to the Richmond Nature Park,
for a day of wandering…
We listened to the eagles spiraling in the sky above us…
We listened to the squirrels and the chipmunks…
We listened to the turtles, and the toad who watched us from his eyes peaking out of the murky pond…
And then we trampolined on the bog and wrapped our arms around trees…
My class said to me,
We can hear Life and it is telling us what to write…
We went back to school and they wrote in their journals,
about everything that they had experienced…
As much as they could get down in words…
And we are breathless before you...
When people hear that you’re working on a Ph.D they make all kinds of assumptions…
I’m considering a complete withdrawal from the program if it gets in the way of what is real,
and what matters…
I hear people talk loud about all the books they’ve read…
Like such mention might hold interest,
or power...
I suppose in the dominant culture it does…
I’m more impressed by knowing that comes naturally,
without force…
And how people quietly evolve themselves,
without airs,
or inflation…
Despite my many years of post-secondary ‘education’,
because that is the road that rolled out behind me,
I’m not very well read…
I’m not familiar with,
or interested in,
quoting from the philosophical canon,
so-called classic literature,
or gurus…
I just read what catches my attention…
And I look for words that spin flax into gold…
Last week I started a book that was written in an apartment over the corner store across the street from my house…
The descriptions in this book make me want to rub my ears on the page like a freshly washed dog who has just found a rotting spawned salmon along the banks of the Cowichan…
And the other day when I woke up from a post-get the girls off to school and do the dishes nap,
I rolled over and looked outside to see if the sun had cut a swathe through the morning monsoon…
It had…
And noticed the writer of the book skipping down the sidewalk,
Jiminy Cricket like…
I wanted to run across the road into traffic without looking,
jump up on him with my muddy paws and lick his face with appreciation for this meaty bone he left out on the counter…
But I’m a much more reserved kind of Lassie…
And as if I’m going to offer up a title just like that…
If you don’t already know you’ll figure it out,
like a Hardy Boy…
They gazed at her…
There was a certain infinite placidity to her smile…
She never got a bored look…
She sat with her knees bent to one side,
her ten toes stacked single file up her bare feet…
The bare feet was her one show of intimacy…
Her back was to them, but as she turned her neck they saw her face in profile…
She tucked the cigarette between her lips and sucked with plush inhalation,
then let the burly cloud exhale once it had seen what it was like inside of her…
She was a vision of the future these men had yet to grasp…
They wanted that life,
the life they believed she represented…
They yearned hard for that life especially on those nights when the cold and rain got right into your bones,
seeping through the joints and freezing you from the inside,
nights when the only bed in town was at a Methodist rooming house on a mattress with three other jobbers like yourself…
She was a stark contrast to the day-to-day agony of making a decent wage…
Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind... (fabric collection by Rosehip)
Tumble weeds…
Note to Self:
When you’re packing up wine glasses that you never really liked to get rid of the old in preparation for the new in pages of the Georgia Straight don’t laugh out loud when your eyes skim Savage Love because then you’ll have to explain to your daughter that there are people who write in for advice about whether putting Ben Gay on your private parts will make you sterile or not and then who knows what questions will follow from that conversation and what kind of answers you’ll have to come up with at the dinner table…
I spent the morning at my daughters’ school today,
dancing with hula-hoops,
and a gym full of unadulterated joy…
I had to have the hula-hooping is like hockey so you have to keep your eyes open and be tough if you want to be on this team because contact can end up being part of the game talk with some members of my club…
A scrape or two across the nose or chin,
a black eye,
and bruised hips,
are all part of the initiation…
Hula-hooping may open up chakras,
but it also takes no prisoners…
Although we have been in acquaintance for nearly seven years,
as his wife provided very loving daycare for both my children,
the principal of the school doesn’t always recognize me from a distance…
In the past he has said,
as he approaches me down the corridor,
Oh, it’s you…
I couldn’t tell at first…
When he says things like that,
I mess with him a bit,
and ask,
Couldn’t you feel me???
He has now taken to laughing,
when he says,
with a raised eyebrow,
I’m not at that level yet…
But I’m sure you’ll take me there…
And when he does,
I respond as such,
Perhaps…
Only once I’m certain,
you’re made of the right kind of stuff…
Today he told me a story of mystery,
indicating that we may be getting closer,
to being on the same page…
And that he is willing to admit appreciating,
that which we know,
but can’t always explain…
in words…
Last week Starshine (10) called me from her Papa’s house,
after school,
as I was sitting there in my house wondering WHAT in the world is going on here…
She said,
all chirpy,
I had a funny dream this morning…
You got a job as a teacher,
a vice-principal,
and a principal,
all at once,
in three different lives…
I said,
Thanks for the information…
Now I’m going back to bed,
to regroup…
She said,
Oh Mama,
you just think you can’t do it,
but you know that you can…
You are ready for EVERYTHING…
If only for one second, I see it twinkling in your eye... (Photo: Starshine)
Testing mettle…
Yesterday was an interesting day for me…
like every other day isn’t…
I had a rough sleep the night before…
and as I lay there from about 2 am. until it was time to get up for the day I reflected upon the last ten years of my life…
I often say to my children,
I have no idea how I used to do what I did…
It seems like I was some other life form…
I remember someone watching me at the park many years ago as I pushed my two children in their swings, threw a Kong repeatedly for our big furry dog, and made conversation…
all at the same time…
after a day of commuting out to the suburbs and back to spend the day teaching, and caring for, other peoples children…
because I didn’t know what else to do…
The person said watching me was like watching this
All three angels at once…
I had to laugh…
even though spandex gives me hives…
sometimes I have felt like I am at least three women doing high kicks and splits in a great ball of fire…
But I’ve come to realize that how other people see me is arbitrary, and just a surface viewing…
I exercise my capacity to change with every new day…
and I don’t pull all of my magic out of my hat all at once…
A free wind is blowing through your hair...
We often think we have to go somewhere else to be happy…
or creative…
I used to think that if only I could move somewhere like the Slocan Valley and gaze at the Vahallas day in and day out I would feel relaxed and peaceful…
24/7/365…
for sure…
But we all know that wherever we go there we are…
Like yesterday…
I was at Science World…
After the first time I NEVER again booked a field trip for my class to go to Science World…
As a teacher responsible for other people’s young children this kind of an environment is a recipe for cardiac arrest…
But as a parent volunteer I was only responsible for six grade five girls…
piece of upside down cake…
I marveled at my inner calm…
While I kept an eye on these six girls I watched my body sensations…
As I learned about electrons and Van de Graaf generators I attended to my energy system…
with steady processing…
I danced in a dark room to Staying Alive, with three teenage girls who wanted me to be in their pictures recording our collective movements on a wall of light just minutes after my daughter Starshine (1o) told me that I wasn’t allowed in her general vicinity if I swayed with the music…
I played with water…
and a parachute…
I stroked beaver pelt…
and some mink…
And had great ongoing conversation with a beautiful young woman from Quebec City who has recently moved here with her partner just to see where life takes them…
We were like quiet magnets pulling towards each other and then pulling apart…
repeatedly over the course of the day…
And we didn’t make one moment of small talk…
I asked her if she expected this to happen when she woke up this morning…
She said,
No, absolutely not… did you???
I said,
No, I didn’t either but I don’t have conversations that aren’t like this…
when people tell me that they haven’t talked about meaning and purpose and a bigger picture for twenty or more years I wonder what they’ve spent their lives talking about…
and with whom…
We talked about our felt sensitivities…
and she told me how she had this feeling in her chest…
She covered her heart with her fist…
I was so happy because I couldn’t feel it…
I told her that this was a big thing for me…
I was so relieved that I couldn’t feel her…
unless I wanted to…
And as I asked her to specifically describe the feeling in her chest her fist opened up like a bird and flew away…
And she said, her words following her hand,
There it goes…
it’s gone now…
After all of the children from my daughters’ school left to return to school on the bus Starshine, Little Gem and I went to see this
We each walk our own path to ourselves…
and our holy place…
There is no one way…
And the voice we thought we needed, talking on the outside, was inside all along…
Just waiting to be heard, and remembered, in a dusty file folder…
In Science World I found Mecca by staying rooted in my ground…
and opening my heart to the strangers I was with, in that public space…
Choosing my religion…
When we got home I checked to see how everyone was feeling…
Starshine had motion sickness from watching the wrap-around film…
So we all went in different directions for some quiet time…
to empty out…
Starshine read some Nancy Drew…
Little Gem worked with Kid Pix…
I did the morning dishes…
Putting my hands in water puts me right in my body…
And it makes me think about the loss of all those water tables, and sand boxes, that no longer have a home in Kindergarten classrooms…
We prefer prescriptions…
for keeping kids still…
and focused…
Prescriptions are easier to write and fill…
with no messy clean up at the end of the day…
The first thing I’m going to do when I am a principal is order up a trailer load full of sand…
and a big water hose…
For carving river beds into silica…
and giving girls and boys something to sink their fingers into…
while developing Supra-skills, for post-2010…
Some day we'll get it together and we'll get it undone...
Canuck'd 