Train Whistle

I am too tired. My eyes are at the itchy and squinty stage.

However...

I just wanted you all to know that I absolutely love that I live in a place where, at night,

when it is cozy in my apartment with our Christmas tree lights twinkling,
and it smelling of cinnamon,
and my roommate is telling me stories about the people she's chatting online with
and my school projects due Friday are half done on my laptop
and half of a chocolate cake is on the counter which is deliiiiiiicious with its drippy frosting
and I am pondering silly boy crushes (it's true, is that embarassing?)
...

that I can hear a train whistle in the distance.

Because that is a sound of safety for me. And peace. And reassurance that things are still moving along

just.
the way.
they're supposed to.

Goodnight.

Galileo Galilei, grapes, and a pear

"The Sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do."
--Galileo Galilei

Isn't that lovely?

Symbolism is quite nice, don't you think?

I do.

I like thinking of all the things the Sun represents....

Life.
Warmth.
Growth.
Consistency.
New beginnings.
Order.
The Savior.

I think that Galileo had an interesting insight here. Let us remember that even things that are big and powerful and necessary and probably at times dauntingly important remember and take time for things that are little, just because they bring joy and an order to the system.

What would life be without the grapes to make it sweet?

The other day I had a very revelatory experience. I will tell you about it because we are friends, and I believe you won't laugh at me. (If you do, it's probably okay though.)

I was eating lunch, and I had a pear in my bag.

That's not all, but you must realize that I have had a week of considering my...weaknesses. Faults. Imperfections. Shortcomings. ...Bruises, if you will.

It was a funny thing, I took that pear out of my bag, and as I held it in my hand I felt like

...I SAW it for the first time.

How perfect it was. How miraculous it was! To think that a little seed had produced an entire tree which had produced such delightful creations. I looked at its stem - a reminder of where it's been. And then I considered the seeds hidden deep inside - a reminder of where it's going. I was absolutely overcome by the miracle of nature. That such a beautiful creation could be here right in my hand - sweet and soft and scented.

And then I turned it over, and it had a little bruise on it.

Oh my.

What a beautiful exquisite thing it was. I saw it so wholly that I would never deny that it was just lovely the way it was exactly and absolutely fulfilling its purpose with its nice Bosc color. I thought to myself that the bruise wasn't a flaw...it was simply an indication of living...of the effects of growth and of actually being involved in the world...of being affected by it. I saw that bruise not as a mistake or a shame but as a triumphant evidence that that pear was REAL.

Then I had a few tears in my eyes.

Are you laughing about that?

Maybe, but I can't tell you...it just gave me so much peace.

We all have flaws. Bruises. Painful places that indicate where we've fallen or where we've learned the hard way or way we've just place gotten jabbed by something unfortunate.

But all they are are indicators that we are ALIVE and GROWING and WORTH SOMETHING because...look how far we've come. With our bits that show where we've come from - like how I have Allen feet - and deep inside are pieces of what we will become.

Ernest Hemingway, in A Farewell to Arms, said:

"The world breaks everyone and afterwards many are strong at the broken places."

I like that.

I remember one time when I was little my brother Spencer and I were telling a neighbor that we didn't like to eat the bruises on bananas. He had given us one to share that had several big spots on it. We thought they were icky.

He smiled and said,

"Oh really? I like those parts. They are sweeter than the rest of it."

And then we fought over the last of the banana.

By jingo!

I found this picture the other day:




And I thought -

happiness captured on film!

Because what could be better than being surrounded with jars of candy and having a perfect tiny gap between your baby teeth?

Perhaps you, like I, are thinking of this joyous childhood snippet as you look at this picture. (Go on, click on the link and have a smile on me.)

Also, do you remember Gimme from Thoroughly Modern Millie? The rich-boy-with-life-of-glamour-hiding-in-dweeb's-costume? I just loved how he always said "BY JINGO!" I have started to say it all the time. Even if Millie thought he was "full of applesauce" at first, we all know Gimme was the real winner. Trevor Graydon never had much pull for me. For example, consider this excellent moment of Gimme-ness. DELISH!

"I am certain that after the dust of centuries has passed over our cities, we, too....

...will be remembered not for victories or defeats in battle or in politics but for our contribution to the human spirit." --President John F. Kennedy


That thought just inspires me. Utterly.

I first read it in high school when I attended a performance at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C. Oh my, if you have not been there, make it a life goal. Aim to go at Christmas - they hang up these banners all the way around the building so that from a distance it looks likethe building has a big gift bow tied around it. Who thought of something that elegant and clever? I would like to know.

I attended this performance during a time of discovery in my life. I had begun my study of American Sign Language. With it I have discovered a big love for language and cultures and people and EXPRESSION! Oh my gosh. It was thrilling. It still makes me smile to think about those years. It was one of those critical life periods where you identify important bits - or massive chunks - of WHO YOU ARE. I thought at the time it was just ASL that I loved, but I'm beginning to realize it was more a love for...how communication can be so exquisite really.

Along with some other ASL students, that day I attended a performance of a group of Deaf, black, male dancers called the Wild Zappers. I tell you it was thrilling! The best was when the whole company danced together to Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel." All those passionate, talented people, feeling the vibrations of the music through the wooden stage and communicating in such a unique way. It made me feel...joyous! And liberated somehow.

I found this quote on a Kennedy Center brochure on our way out. It was typed over the top a picture of a modern dancer in an exquisite pose. I remember she was wearing a rose colored costume, with long pieces that draped around her arms and legs. It was stunning.

I realized something about ARTISTRY that night, and I continue to think about it.

There are artists all around us. Yes, some are dancers...but others are artists with their words, or with their listening skills, or with their medical knowledge, or with their ability to put the right amount of fresh basil into chicken dishes they are inventing on the spot. (Which my roommate did last week, it was just miraculous). At the end of it all, it's our own artistic contributions, in whatever form they come in, that mean the most to the world.

In thinking about this quote from an important American figure, I realize that I spend way too much of my life wrapped in battles and politics. Homework! Laundry! Paperwork! Punching in and out of work! Essays! Scrubbing the toilet! Trying to connect with people with clout so my breaths can somehow be more worthwhile! Dirty dishes! Alarm clocks going off! Worrying about all the health things that I learn about and realizing that through it all I STILL like Oreos, dang it!

Maybe you do the same thing? But good grief, life is about the human spirit! About finding joy and helping others do the same!

Perhaps if we have the right mindset, all of those battle/politics drudgeries could become artistic - ways of expressing ourselves to the world.

For example, yesterday. We had a Chinese party in our apartment. It was a hoot. Everyone made a Chinese name and put it on a nametag (I was Chi Moon something or other), we made our own fried rice, we had potstickers, and we MADE FORTUNE COOKIES...FROM SCRATCH. (Yes, it can be done. I now know how.) We played funny games where people had to race to pick up dry beans with chopsticks, and we listened to some quality bowed string Asian style music. And at the end, as we were cleaning up up the dry beans off the floor and scrubbing out pots free of all the potsticker oil, a cleaning chore that would be a BATTLE under normal circumstances was not at all. It had been such a fun party that it was just fun! To see what we had accomplished, to realize that people had had a good time, and to see how our efforts brought happiness to others made cleaning those dishes just a reflection on good food, laughter, and friendship.

And so, I think JFK had a very good point about what we will really be remembered for.

To the Wild Zappers and the Kennedy Center and fried rice dishes and the human spirit!