A consequence of taking off an entire week of blogging right before New Years, is that I now feel backlogged on all these tidy ways of wrapping up the year…the xmas special, the retrospective, the proclamation of resolutions. That’s all sooooo two days ago.
So I offer to you, the January Third EXTRAVAGANZA. Relive it all like the pinto beans we had on Christmas eve are still living on in me. While the end of the year is still working itself out and no definitive line has been crossed from THIS time to THAT, perhaps dumping out the box of the last week will help push things along. Welcome to my imperfect encapsulation.
We spent the holiday in Encinitas, where my folks relocated several years ago. As I look through the photos, I realize we completely neglected to get any of the grandparents with Fern. We have plenty of “The Sea! The sea!” where Fern clamored to go every day. It was shorts weather, delightful and completely out of sync with all desires for wintry coziness.
Here is a random smattering of our time away. In between, let’s talk resolutionish type things.
Increasingly over the last 10 years or so, I have had a hard time feelin’ the love for New Years Eve. The calendar feels arbitrary to me, systemic and fabricated. Rather, I experience the peaks and valleys of beginnings and endings with the seasons. For this reason, I don’t usually do resolutions. The illusion of a “fresh start” doesn’t last long, and resolutions whither away once we find we are still working with our same ol’ stubborn selves. But I do have ongoing resolutions that I am taking into deep winter.
(Pelicans for you, Kim)
To be kind. To be slow. To be soft…open in heart, unclenched in belly.
I bring this one forward for Leo. Sometimes it feels like I am reprioritizing every day. Being in the moment is not just a nice idea anymore. It’s crucial. Everyday I am yanking myself away from whatever castle in sky has managed to grab my attention. Here is my anger, and I am with it. I allow for it. Here is my sorrow and I take the time to feel it. Here is my stomach ache, I offer it my breath. Here is my daughter wanting to be picked up, I let go of ideas of “on time” and “timing” and “getting it done”. I commit myself, everyday, to nurturing deep, messy, painful, joyful, inconvenient love for my family.
To laugh. Hard. Everyday.
One of my dedications from last year was to immerse myself as much as possible in my field of Ecopsychology, from a theory point of view. It was fascinating, rich and depressing as all hell.
We Those Ecopsychologists man…they’re a dour bunch. Derrik Jensen, I love you dude, but reading your work left me with a severe case of Magic Deficit Disorder and looking for a cyanide pill. I did some good work this last year, of really confronting, feeling, accepting the profound level of grief I have for what is happening to our Earth. I made it through a gauntlet, and increased my capacity to withstand the atrocities that seem to be happening on a daily basis without it destroying me. Being able to open to all of it is essential to my work. But life must also be lived, and it needs to be worth it. At the Christmannukkah Hubba Hubba Revue, I watched two girls dressed up as dreidels dance to “You Spin Me Right Round (Like a Record, Baby)” and realized I need more of that. Irreverence is a necessary ingredient to the good life. So is walking the highwire of the edge between the hysterical and the taboo. I need more FUN. So I am making space for it, setting a place for it at the table and giving myself permission to lighten up.
I want more deep friendships. I want us to move to a home for our future. I want to read more fiction.
By May, I want to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight. 2011 was the Year of Trying to Accept but becoming complacent instead. 2012 will be the year of Chipmunk Cheeks, Be Gone!
Accept every offer of “Pay Mommy! I want to pay!”.
Her favorite form of “pay” right now is her new play mat (made by mommy herself) with the Mushroom Abode from Grandma Timmins, the mushrooms and gnomes made by mommy and daddy, rocks from Aunt Kelly etc. All the objects were given separately, without forethought of how they could all go together. Now she has a fairy world that she calls “The Sea” since both sides have “water” on them.
My folks have someone come to help out with my dad (who is paralyzed from a stroke) a couple of days a week. Lilian is from El Salvador, and while she doesn’t speak much english, what her heart speaks makes up for it. As she was playing blocks with Fern, who was screeching with delight, she said, “Mucho feliz!”
My dad was playing with the translation feature on the new ipad we got him. He said, “I want a million dollars” which was then translated into Spanish. Lilian read the translation and said something back. It translated as, “I want to be with you”.
I want to be with you, all of you in real life, and online…really really BE with you. What else should I do with my wild and precious life?
(Speaking of which, I am ever-so-slowly catching up with your blogs and hope to be leaving you comments as much as I can)