yay for staying up WAY too late with with my best girl Dol and talking and talking and talking and listening to music and talking.
"What's your biggest dream?" she asked me. Why don't I have an answer?
I want to love and be loved, I want to play, I want to use my brain for good (not evil), I want to not live a half-assed life. I want to fully engage in all that I do. I haven't been doing that lately. I want to go on retreat, I want to travel, I want to experience the richness of the world and also appreciate the mundane. I want to dance and dance and dance. Have I ever let myself really dream big, crazy, wild, fantasy dreams? My practical brain makes it hard...I have plans, lists, logic...these are my comfort zones. To really dream is to let go of the logic and let in the crazy wisdom.
Dolly's partner leaves town tomorrow, and it seems the crazy slumber party has begun a day early. I'm looking forward to some time with the two of us. I'm looking forward to time with Dolly and John tomorrow and Saturday! Yay! I know I need to go to sleep but I'm wired...not on any substances (unless you count water, second-hand smoke, and dog farts). hm. ok, must go sleeeeeep.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Saturday, May 5, 2007
heroes and humans
Tonight I went to dinner and a movie with my johnguy. It was so good to see him and talk to him and be silly.
It was good to connect and talk about our similar goals of trying to live a more integrated, balanced, authentic life. To live a life in which we can share all of ourselves, to not hold back, to really connect. This is my struggle lately.
Does it take a hero to live that kind of life? Does it just take being human? Even heroes are humans and make mistakes, hurt others in their attempt to do good, get tempted by their shaddow sides, get self aggressive, and create suffering for themselves and others. But heroes are humans and love and laugh and forgive and and bring happiness and joy to themselves and others. Heroes are vulnerable and strong and fearful and courageous. We are drawn to heroes because of their superhuman ability to really be human, to live in the human realm, to feel even when it hurts.
I went to see Spiderman III tonight. I was looking for a good hero movie and had hoped to get caught up in an uplifted "hero saves the day" and "happily ever after" movie. The movie was not that, and I think it gave me a lesson I've been needing to remember...that each of us has the potential to be a hero and each of us has the potential to be human.
It was good to connect and talk about our similar goals of trying to live a more integrated, balanced, authentic life. To live a life in which we can share all of ourselves, to not hold back, to really connect. This is my struggle lately.
Does it take a hero to live that kind of life? Does it just take being human? Even heroes are humans and make mistakes, hurt others in their attempt to do good, get tempted by their shaddow sides, get self aggressive, and create suffering for themselves and others. But heroes are humans and love and laugh and forgive and and bring happiness and joy to themselves and others. Heroes are vulnerable and strong and fearful and courageous. We are drawn to heroes because of their superhuman ability to really be human, to live in the human realm, to feel even when it hurts.
I went to see Spiderman III tonight. I was looking for a good hero movie and had hoped to get caught up in an uplifted "hero saves the day" and "happily ever after" movie. The movie was not that, and I think it gave me a lesson I've been needing to remember...that each of us has the potential to be a hero and each of us has the potential to be human.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
dead alpaca baby (dont read if you're squeamish)
Last night I stayed at the house in Longmont.
7am we went out to feed the animals together and discovered Maya was in labor over a month early. The amniotic sack was out, but hadn't ruptured. In a panick, I called the vet and our neighbor, Lynley. She said to rip open the sack and go in to try to deliver the baby...to try to save the baby.
I opened that fluid sack and went in up to my elbow. I could feel body parts and wasn't really sure what the hell I was touching. I could make out a knee and what I thought was the neck, but I couldn't get far enough in her to find the head. The baby wasn't moving. It was so warm inside her womb, but that baby didn't move at all. I was afraid. I was so afraid of hurting the baby, of hurting maya, of doing something to make the whole situation worse and afraid to do nothing and to make the whole situation worse. Our vet called back and said not to do anything more. Our neighbor called and said go back in there and see what you can feel...is the baby moving? No, the baby hadn't moved. I knew that baby wasn't alive. The part that I thought was a neck was long and curved and went back so far. It was so warm in there. So comforting and so frightening. What if I do the wrong thing and tear her uterus and then she bleeds to death. We'd lose Maya and the baby.
Lynley came over and checked maya too. She thought it was a breech birth. If it is a breech, she said, the baby could be fine. Michael and Lynley kept walking Maya around talking to her, telling her not to push. I stayed with her 6 year old daughter, Sierra, answering questions about what a placenta is, what a breech birth means, and why it is bad. Telling Sierra, that the baby might already be dead. How alpaca births and human births are not very different.
Our vet finally arrived. We walked Maya out of the corral and into the grassy back yard...it would be cleaner on the grass if he needed to do a c-section. He went in and felt the baby. It wasn't a breech. He described feeling the knee and the neck, just as I had felt it. He manipulated the baby for what felt like a long time and finally brought the head out. He checked to see if it was alive. It was not. He delivered the baby, and maya's vagina tore a little as the baby came out. Once the baby was out we checked. It was a boy. The umbilical cord had ruptured in utero. He was beautiful and he was dead. He was premature, but not so premature that he couldn't have survived if only he had been born alive.
We let Maya sniff her baby for a few minutes while Sierra and I hugged each other and cried. Eventually, our vet gave maya some anitbiotics and some oxytocin to stimulate the release of the placenta. I took Sierra over to the gate to look at the animals while the others bagged up the baby's body. at 8am, Lynley and Sierra left to get ready for school.
We talked to our vet for a little bit. His best guess was that somehow the umbilical cord got severed, probably happened when the baby was shifting into position. The umbilical cord severed, the baby died, and that triggered Maya to go into labor.
I'm usually so happy to see our vet. I usually call him our "hunky vet"...not many men look that good in overalls. But today I'm just sad. Sad to have had to call him, sad to see him, sad for maya, sad for michael, sad for sierra, sad for the dead baby, and sad for myself.
After our vet left, Michael went to the farm store to get a bottle of penicillin. I stayed outside to watch Maya and wait for the placenta to drop. At 10:00, she was still trying to get it out, so we gave her another shot of oxytocin. The placenta dropped at 10:15, and we burried it out in the north pasture. One more hole, one more burrial, one more ending.
We're walking around like zombies. We're awake and asleep. Trying to function and not doing it very well. We took the two almost 1-year old babies to another ranch after we were sure Maya was ok. Those two babies are going to an alpaca show in Denver this weekend, and the people at the other ranch are taking them down there for us. We told them we're leaving this business, and that if anyone is interested in either of our animals to make sure to say that they're for sale. You can't have a livestock business when you get so attached, I said. You need to have a level of detachment to think of the alpacas as "just livestock" not to love them and mourn them. You can't run a business when you sell off animals like they don't have feelings and they don't care. They clearly have feelings. They do care. They show their emotions and can be sad and worried and scared and happy and joyful. They play, they fight, they love each other and they hate each other. How can you buy and sell beings who aren't so different from you?
I'm a zombie and I don't know what to do. I need to go to work, but I don't know what I'll do there. I don't know what I'll do if I stay here either. Writing the story helps me. I'm not sure I want to talk about this just yet. I am pretty numb right now, but writing this has helped.
7am we went out to feed the animals together and discovered Maya was in labor over a month early. The amniotic sack was out, but hadn't ruptured. In a panick, I called the vet and our neighbor, Lynley. She said to rip open the sack and go in to try to deliver the baby...to try to save the baby.
I opened that fluid sack and went in up to my elbow. I could feel body parts and wasn't really sure what the hell I was touching. I could make out a knee and what I thought was the neck, but I couldn't get far enough in her to find the head. The baby wasn't moving. It was so warm inside her womb, but that baby didn't move at all. I was afraid. I was so afraid of hurting the baby, of hurting maya, of doing something to make the whole situation worse and afraid to do nothing and to make the whole situation worse. Our vet called back and said not to do anything more. Our neighbor called and said go back in there and see what you can feel...is the baby moving? No, the baby hadn't moved. I knew that baby wasn't alive. The part that I thought was a neck was long and curved and went back so far. It was so warm in there. So comforting and so frightening. What if I do the wrong thing and tear her uterus and then she bleeds to death. We'd lose Maya and the baby.
Lynley came over and checked maya too. She thought it was a breech birth. If it is a breech, she said, the baby could be fine. Michael and Lynley kept walking Maya around talking to her, telling her not to push. I stayed with her 6 year old daughter, Sierra, answering questions about what a placenta is, what a breech birth means, and why it is bad. Telling Sierra, that the baby might already be dead. How alpaca births and human births are not very different.
Our vet finally arrived. We walked Maya out of the corral and into the grassy back yard...it would be cleaner on the grass if he needed to do a c-section. He went in and felt the baby. It wasn't a breech. He described feeling the knee and the neck, just as I had felt it. He manipulated the baby for what felt like a long time and finally brought the head out. He checked to see if it was alive. It was not. He delivered the baby, and maya's vagina tore a little as the baby came out. Once the baby was out we checked. It was a boy. The umbilical cord had ruptured in utero. He was beautiful and he was dead. He was premature, but not so premature that he couldn't have survived if only he had been born alive.
We let Maya sniff her baby for a few minutes while Sierra and I hugged each other and cried. Eventually, our vet gave maya some anitbiotics and some oxytocin to stimulate the release of the placenta. I took Sierra over to the gate to look at the animals while the others bagged up the baby's body. at 8am, Lynley and Sierra left to get ready for school.
We talked to our vet for a little bit. His best guess was that somehow the umbilical cord got severed, probably happened when the baby was shifting into position. The umbilical cord severed, the baby died, and that triggered Maya to go into labor.
I'm usually so happy to see our vet. I usually call him our "hunky vet"...not many men look that good in overalls. But today I'm just sad. Sad to have had to call him, sad to see him, sad for maya, sad for michael, sad for sierra, sad for the dead baby, and sad for myself.
After our vet left, Michael went to the farm store to get a bottle of penicillin. I stayed outside to watch Maya and wait for the placenta to drop. At 10:00, she was still trying to get it out, so we gave her another shot of oxytocin. The placenta dropped at 10:15, and we burried it out in the north pasture. One more hole, one more burrial, one more ending.
We're walking around like zombies. We're awake and asleep. Trying to function and not doing it very well. We took the two almost 1-year old babies to another ranch after we were sure Maya was ok. Those two babies are going to an alpaca show in Denver this weekend, and the people at the other ranch are taking them down there for us. We told them we're leaving this business, and that if anyone is interested in either of our animals to make sure to say that they're for sale. You can't have a livestock business when you get so attached, I said. You need to have a level of detachment to think of the alpacas as "just livestock" not to love them and mourn them. You can't run a business when you sell off animals like they don't have feelings and they don't care. They clearly have feelings. They do care. They show their emotions and can be sad and worried and scared and happy and joyful. They play, they fight, they love each other and they hate each other. How can you buy and sell beings who aren't so different from you?
I'm a zombie and I don't know what to do. I need to go to work, but I don't know what I'll do there. I don't know what I'll do if I stay here either. Writing the story helps me. I'm not sure I want to talk about this just yet. I am pretty numb right now, but writing this has helped.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
hips
walk in my new-ish jeans.
They are too long and too baggy and are only staying up
by barely hanging on to my hips.
My hips are made for birthing babies,
my AP Bio teacher once said as she had me stand
in front of the class in my junior year in high school.
She never commented on my breasts.
My hips were once a symbol of shame, and I wore
baggy pants to hide them, baggy shirts to hide my breasts
so that I could pass in a man's world.
I walked between the worlds of male and female
In my secret time I learned to dance
like a woman:
tribal dances, hip shaking dances,
with bells and coins attached to my hips to bring notice to them,
to break away from the shame.
I wrap my hips in denim.
I wrap my hips around my love.
They are too long and too baggy and are only staying up
by barely hanging on to my hips.
My hips are made for birthing babies,
my AP Bio teacher once said as she had me stand
in front of the class in my junior year in high school.
She never commented on my breasts.
My hips were once a symbol of shame, and I wore
baggy pants to hide them, baggy shirts to hide my breasts
so that I could pass in a man's world.
I walked between the worlds of male and female
In my secret time I learned to dance
like a woman:
tribal dances, hip shaking dances,
with bells and coins attached to my hips to bring notice to them,
to break away from the shame.
I wrap my hips in denim.
I wrap my hips around my love.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
back in boulder
I was up at SMC yesterday and today. It was wonderful to be up there, to be on the land, to be able to hike up to the stupa, to to talk to the students and the faculty, to see a student presentation, to ring the big gong (one of my favorite things) and to get to sit and look at my own mind.
I had a great conversation with one of the faculty who is around my age, and she's going through something similar to me. We talked about boundaries and projections and relationships. We spoke of how complicated and amazing and painful life and loving is. How sometimes we want to go back to sleep...to ignore the thruths we've discovered within ourselves. Waking up and moving toward a more authentic life is difficult, and I hope that awakening will eventually lead to less suffering.
It is hard to love yourself when you know that you're causing so much pain to the ones you love the most.
I had a great conversation with one of the faculty who is around my age, and she's going through something similar to me. We talked about boundaries and projections and relationships. We spoke of how complicated and amazing and painful life and loving is. How sometimes we want to go back to sleep...to ignore the thruths we've discovered within ourselves. Waking up and moving toward a more authentic life is difficult, and I hope that awakening will eventually lead to less suffering.
It is hard to love yourself when you know that you're causing so much pain to the ones you love the most.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Ani concert in STL
My life is in chaos right now. I'm crashing at my best girl Dol's house for now and trying to sort out what next.
I haven't been on this myspace land in a bunch of days and am now taking a few minutes break before my 4 hours of meetings begin at noon. There was a bulletin post from Ani DiFranco about tour dates, and she'll be in St. Louis on July 20 playing a FREE concert on the riverfront. That's only 4 days after my birthday!
Anyone want to road trip to my hometown of STL to see a free Ani concert in celebration of my 30th Birthday? (or for the folks in STL, you wanna meet up for this?!)
We can even stop at the Oz Museum in Kansas on the way or stay at the fun B&B I visited with my sister Lindsey last summer.
I haven't been on this myspace land in a bunch of days and am now taking a few minutes break before my 4 hours of meetings begin at noon. There was a bulletin post from Ani DiFranco about tour dates, and she'll be in St. Louis on July 20 playing a FREE concert on the riverfront. That's only 4 days after my birthday!
Anyone want to road trip to my hometown of STL to see a free Ani concert in celebration of my 30th Birthday? (or for the folks in STL, you wanna meet up for this?!)
We can even stop at the Oz Museum in Kansas on the way or stay at the fun B&B I visited with my sister Lindsey last summer.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
my sister is funny
I got to talk to my sister, Courtney, today for a long, long time. Courney lived with me for 8-10months in San Diego before she moved to her fabulous life in LA. It was so much fun living with her and I miss her (and my other sister and brother) a lot. It is weird sometimes that the 4 of us are each in a different time zone...crazy, modern world.
Anyway, there were several times during our conversation that I started cracking up and just had to write down what she said. I never knew she was such a wise philosopher and a hilarious comedian. OK, maybe I knew she was a comedian (see some other blog where I mention the Mr. Peanut walk). So here are a few nuggets of wisdom from her to me:
"I'm your sister and I won't screw you over. And even if I did, you'd have to like me anyway."
"I'm having a quarter-life crisis and you're having a mid-life crisis". (Please note that I'm not quite 3 years older than this girl who will turn 27 in 2 days!)
"You don't want to be unhappy for the rest of your life because that would just suck."
"In this time of deep stress and despair, do what you need to. If everyone is focused on you, they won't be paying any attention to what I'm doing."
Ok, so I think these are funny. They were probably funnier in context, but they make me smile as I copy them off my little notepaper.
P.S. I looked back over the blogs and realized that the blog that references the Mr. Peanut walk did not tell the original Mr. Peanut walk story. The basic story was that sometime when I was still living in San Diego and Courtney was in LA, we went on a hike somewhere in the LA area and Courtney and I started walking like Mr. Peanut. Imagine leaning way back when you walk and taking big, exaggerated, strutting steps. We were cracking up during our Mr. Peanut hike and well afterwards for what felt like hours and hours.
Anyway, there were several times during our conversation that I started cracking up and just had to write down what she said. I never knew she was such a wise philosopher and a hilarious comedian. OK, maybe I knew she was a comedian (see some other blog where I mention the Mr. Peanut walk). So here are a few nuggets of wisdom from her to me:
"I'm your sister and I won't screw you over. And even if I did, you'd have to like me anyway."
"I'm having a quarter-life crisis and you're having a mid-life crisis". (Please note that I'm not quite 3 years older than this girl who will turn 27 in 2 days!)
"You don't want to be unhappy for the rest of your life because that would just suck."
"In this time of deep stress and despair, do what you need to. If everyone is focused on you, they won't be paying any attention to what I'm doing."
Ok, so I think these are funny. They were probably funnier in context, but they make me smile as I copy them off my little notepaper.
P.S. I looked back over the blogs and realized that the blog that references the Mr. Peanut walk did not tell the original Mr. Peanut walk story. The basic story was that sometime when I was still living in San Diego and Courtney was in LA, we went on a hike somewhere in the LA area and Courtney and I started walking like Mr. Peanut. Imagine leaning way back when you walk and taking big, exaggerated, strutting steps. We were cracking up during our Mr. Peanut hike and well afterwards for what felt like hours and hours.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
