In yoga today, we were helping each other with handstands. I helped my partner, and then she went to help me. I tried three times to get up and was there for a second and then fell. I said, I don’t know what is going on, I’ve been able to do this before. And kept trying and kept falling.
I realized later, in my truck, that I had never tried a handstand in my life. I have always been terrified of doing one.
I went for a two hour yoga session with John Friend on the Tulane campus this morning. I wore my blue wig in the spirit of the day. He talked about fear and opening ourselves up. He also said that people like to insulate themselves when they feel vulnerable and that in New Orleans one way to do that is to eat. He said when we have a lot of stress in our life, when we feel the most vulnerable, that is when some of us turn to food and although we may not be eating more than usual, we are packing on the pounds more than usual, and that this is our armor that we are wearing to protect ourselves.
Explains 15 pounds in a heartbeat.
Today is the midway point, where the lighter half of the year is behind us and the night gives way to the darker half. It’s also the day we welcome the dead back to stand among the living as the veil between alive and dead is almost pierced in the transition. If this were measured in a day’s cycle, this would be the gloaming, the time to reflect and rest from the day and welcome the night.
I was visiting mom this morning and told her it was twilight and that the dead would be walking among us this evening and asked her who she would like to see. I told her I had been thinking of Uncle Doyle and Mama Mae (her mother) and Tio Vitali and Saul, and Uncle Menahem, and Carey and Dale. She said, “Daddy,” meaning Grandpa Ellis. She smiled a big smile.
It’s the beginning of a new cycle and we have to welcome all the love and joy into our hearts and have a vision of what the new cycle will bring. I’m optimistic.
One of my mom’s doctors referred to her as a “tea and toast lady,” those elderly who exist on caffeine for hydration and some form of carb (cookie or toast) for sustenance, all the while the cigs and drinks are what is keeping them alive. He said they don’t have a name for men because men simply die.
I remember cleaning up clutter in my mom’s apartment and finding twinkies in the oven, cookies in the microwave, as well as other strange food items stored in the most unlikely places. All the while begging her to drink one Ensure or Boost three times a day. Now that is being given to her via a food tube.
We are all set to go to the Healing Center tonight to begin our Halloween weekend but it is so muggy outside from the high humidity and warmth that I am wondering if it is even possible for me to put on my costume much less my wig? Isn’t it supposed to be fall?
For better or worse in New Orleans, people know you and your mom and them. Your mom and them signifies anyone in your family. Last night we went to a house warming for our friend who just bought a house. Several of our friends have taken advantage of this buyer’s market to finally jump in. It was a small gathering but what was great about it was meeting our friend’s mother who had come in to help him get set up.
This was an issue for me in California where most people seem to hover unattached to any family. Now granted, there are times when I’d like to hover way far away from my family, but knowing who they are, helps you know who I am, for better or for worse.
I did not grow up gay and so when my friends who are tell me about how it was back in the day – how they marched, how they pushed the agenda, and how they suffered – it makes me glad that I did not have to suffer through all of that and more importantly that they paved the way to make tolerance more reality than concept. One friend still likes to shout her marching song “We’re here, We’re queer, Get over it.”
But I was reading about the mayoral race in Houston and one thing did strike me to the core – one of the candidates is a lesbian, openly, but more importantly she and her partner have two adopted children. When asked if she would promote a same sex marriage referendum she said she would not put her personal agenda over the city’s agenda.
I can’t help but wonder if just being mayor of Houston as a lesbian with two adopted children would be a nudge towards more tolerance of all issues gay – marriage, adopting, etc. Even though there are some that believe Obama being black and being president doesn’t overcome racism, I am one who believes it goes a long way to show what could be, even if it isn’t yet what should be.
I was telling E that I lay in bed at night and worry that when the child comes I don’t want to act like it is a burden or another stress – I want to enjoy my baby – but then I listed for her all the things that would happen when the baby arrived.
She said, pishaw, you don’t know anything, you cannot know who that child will be when s/he arrives, like everyone else, you will be taken by surprise.
And there it is.
I walked this morning faster – it’s my part to reinvigorate my body and to put some pep in my step. I looked at my to do list and realized that everything might not get done – it’s part of my new I don’t have to be perfect mantra. I did yoga and tried to make myself as juicy as I could – it was the theme of the day to be liquid, to be ojas, to be juicy, and not be uptight and linear.
I thought about something I heard in the play the other day – about how he wanted to wipe out the myth of motherhood and that they are all saints. And I thought about my mom who leaned on me when I was very young and came to me for help when I was only a little girl. She always complimented my confidence and my strength and encouraged it and relied on it. And for 50 years I’ve been strong and confident and people have come to rely on it, and lean on it, and compliment me for it.
BUT I HAVE HAD ENOUGH.
de mi cuñada en croacia:
ETERNIDAD
En mi jardin hay rosas
yo no te quiero dar
las rosas que mañana
Mañana no tendras mañana!
En mi jardin hay pajaros
con canto de cristal
No te los doy, que tienen
alas para volar
En mi jardin abejas
labran fino panal:
Dulzura de un minuto
no te la quiero dar!
Para ti lo infinito
o nada; lo inmortal
o esta muda tristeza
que no comprenderas.
La tristeza sin nombre
de no tener que dar
a quien lleva en la frente
algo de eternidad
Deja, deja el jardin
no toques el rosal:
Las cosas que se mueren
no se deben tocar
Serafina Nunez