I've noticed lately that emotions don't come as readily as they once did. Perhaps it's a little bit of "advancement beyond puberty" and a little mix of a bunch of different factors. But things just don't touch deep all that often. It really takes some stopping and reflecting to raise emotions like saddness, loss, pain... and empathy, which has been the hardest, as it is the most frequently appropriate.
I forgot to listen to the message my father left me tonight in which he let me know his father had passed away. My grandfather. The day I move from the apartment 4 blocks from where he was born, he passes along peacefully as well. Synchronicity.
I read the email first. And took it like any other. Check that one, move to "idealist's daily digest," wander back to that email from Andrea re. babysitting. Without really registering beyond "okay, good to know." What's UP with that?
It wasn't until I then called my voicemail to listen to my dad's message that I really started to feel it. But more in listening to his voice and imagining how he must be feeling as opposed to my own feelings.
I never really knew my grandfather.
But imagining my own father passing away is like a huge knife slicing through me. According to the enneagram, I am a "self-preserving" type... and since my father is so much of who I am, losing him would be like... well... losing a parent. I guess it doesn't much matter what type you are.
I'm left feeling... relatively the same. Wanting more to read his book. Wanting definitely to talk to my dad and be there to support him. Wanting to go to bed.
I wonder if it'll hit later on. After all, I am living in his childhood city. Surrounded by the things he saw growing up, albeit different after 70 years at least. I feel like certain places, whether or not I know he knew them, should resonate with me. Should open up that center part that can feel what it's like to know I'll never see him again, or get the monthly updates from Ruth, or hear my dad's latest recollections of his own dad's fantasy world, dancing ladies, the lottery, lawyers, and all.
Or maybe it'll be looking at his picture and seeing my own dad in his visage. And just imagining that. See, there. That did it. A momentary welling up, clutching... a feeling.
By all accounts, I try to avoid conflict. But I don't like when that means I also avoid feeling anything at all.
off to bed on this day, April 27, 2008. The day my last grandparent passed away. Rest in Peace, Grandpa Alan. My good thoughts are with you in your transition to whatever is beyond.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
Why Melia is glad she doesn't own a car...
1. Driving can be an anxiety-invoking event, depending on the situation
2. Radio commercials are damn annoying
3. The bus is filled with interesting people to observe and eavesdrop on
4. You see more on a bike
5. Getting to work = your morning workout
6. Coming home from work = your evening workout
7. Lugging stuff around is overrated... a bike helps you learn to travel light
8. Parking is a pain in the ass
9. Paying for parking is a pain in the ass
10. You don't notice the weather as much
11. You unconsciously tune out your surroundings
12. The amount you get from the clothes you take the car to resell just barely covers the amount of gas it took you to get there.
13. You think you can live life faster than is necessary
14. You're more often late because you don't take traffic into consideration
15. Oh. And yes, you're contributing to the depletion of the ozone layer, adding to the oil crisis, spewing pollution, and raising the decibel on quiet neighborhood streets.
All in all, I am quite content not to own a car. Yes, it means that I don't get out as spontaneously as I could. Yes, it means compromising the hours in my day and the comfort of controlled temperature. Yes, I don't see as many friends as I could if I had a car to climb the hills with (or maybe that's just my excuse).
The main draw backs include some of the ones above. And the fact that I can't as easily get out into nature (funny how you need a car to get away from other cars...). But as it stands, I'm going to keep my standing bet with myself to see how long I can go in life without owning a car. It's a pretty easy bet when I lack the money to buy one. But in the coming years, it might get a bit harder. However, with ZipCars around the city, a bike at my disposal, a pretty awesome public transport system, and the gumption to do whatever it takes to get to my destination, I have the means to go without for a very long time.
The main obstacles I would see to that would be:
a) if I move to rural Ireland (in which case I'd have the even bigger obstacle of left-hand-side stick shift driving)
b) when kids come into the picture (at which point, hybrids'll be obsolete, and they'll have low-cost, alternative energy vehicles taking over the market... right??)
Okay. Enough on cars. I'm done.
2. Radio commercials are damn annoying
3. The bus is filled with interesting people to observe and eavesdrop on
4. You see more on a bike
5. Getting to work = your morning workout
6. Coming home from work = your evening workout
7. Lugging stuff around is overrated... a bike helps you learn to travel light
8. Parking is a pain in the ass
9. Paying for parking is a pain in the ass
10. You don't notice the weather as much
11. You unconsciously tune out your surroundings
12. The amount you get from the clothes you take the car to resell just barely covers the amount of gas it took you to get there.
13. You think you can live life faster than is necessary
14. You're more often late because you don't take traffic into consideration
15. Oh. And yes, you're contributing to the depletion of the ozone layer, adding to the oil crisis, spewing pollution, and raising the decibel on quiet neighborhood streets.
All in all, I am quite content not to own a car. Yes, it means that I don't get out as spontaneously as I could. Yes, it means compromising the hours in my day and the comfort of controlled temperature. Yes, I don't see as many friends as I could if I had a car to climb the hills with (or maybe that's just my excuse).
The main draw backs include some of the ones above. And the fact that I can't as easily get out into nature (funny how you need a car to get away from other cars...). But as it stands, I'm going to keep my standing bet with myself to see how long I can go in life without owning a car. It's a pretty easy bet when I lack the money to buy one. But in the coming years, it might get a bit harder. However, with ZipCars around the city, a bike at my disposal, a pretty awesome public transport system, and the gumption to do whatever it takes to get to my destination, I have the means to go without for a very long time.
The main obstacles I would see to that would be:
a) if I move to rural Ireland (in which case I'd have the even bigger obstacle of left-hand-side stick shift driving)
b) when kids come into the picture (at which point, hybrids'll be obsolete, and they'll have low-cost, alternative energy vehicles taking over the market... right??)
Okay. Enough on cars. I'm done.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
A day to myself...
With Gretchen gone for the weekend, I was worried that my moody loneliness of the past week's evenings might carry its dark clouds into my coveted days off. However, it appears that opposite has occurred. Perhaps - and I often think this - without the expectation of someone around or someone arriving, the day feels more like my own and the control falls into my hands.
I do believe that getting out into the crisp air this morning to play in the mud certainly helped start things out in the right direction. A 9am Hands On volunteer stint at Sellcrest Community Gardens had me fighting with the deep roots of fennel and the amazingly far-flung surface roots of wayward mint. Surrounded by others, but in my own dirt-strewn groove, I listened to Canadian conversations, observed worm villages, and unearthed many a centipede, millipede, spider, and beetle. It felt good to be out in the morning, hoofing shovel into earth with community harmony in mind.
Home again after the exertion, I hopped into a hot shower to de-muddify (I was certainly the dirtiest of all the volunteers, for whatever reason) and then set about to read... My day's plan was to settle in with both Cradle to Cradle (courtesy of Dwight, and quite the mind-pull) and the pretty "Learning Web Design" book, which I do hope to plow through at some point soon.
However, as is often the case, the afternoon didn't pan out quite the way I'd anticipated. First things first: Andrew was online. Joy! It had been two weeks minus a miniscule conversation on thursday morning before work. I wanted to catch him up on the goat farm visit, on work, on gardening, on sustainability masters programs. I wanted to be reminded of his smile, his voice, and why it is that I find myself more than half way into the second year of this long-distance attempt at couple-hood. We caught up for at least two hours, with intermittant interruptions from his mother, father, brother, exchange student (Andrea), and others, and I was reminded how full of people life will be if I move out there for a few months in the fall... whether or not it'll do me good or drive me crazy is to be determined. Somehow, Andrew convinced me to take out my saxophone and give it a whirl over skype so he could hear me play... I attempted Charlie Parker and failed pretty miserably, but some of the other six-year-old solos came out sounding half-decent. Reminded me that it's a shame that I can't seem commit to one instrument and actually get "great"... *sigh*
Post-skype, I talked to my mom briefly and learned that my paternal grandparents had invited Pete Seeger over for dinner when he'd come to Beirut to perform at AUB, thanks to my mom's music prof. It's funny how new things come out all the time about the people you feel you know best... you just have to ask the right question.
Then, convinced it would be an interlude to the scheduled reading time, I pulled up a new tab in FireFox and searched for "A stor mo croi" to try my voice at the song, sean nós style. Ever since Andrew introduced it to me, I've wanted to be able to adopt it as one of "my songs," since it appears that sean nós anything requires personal adaptation and ownership. Somehow, two hours later, I had sung through not only "A Stor mo croi" a good 15 times, but had also tackled some of the pieces we'd learned at the sean nós singing workshop back in January. With the help of Garage Band, I was able to tell what sounded good, what needed extra workshopping, and what range sounded best (I think I've decided I must be a mezzo-soprano, thanks to wikipedia's distinction). And, figuring I'd warmed up more than I ever would before thursday, I took out my madrigal books and stumbled through three new pieces, still straining for the high G (up to E and I'm clear... F starts to waiver, and the G, unless it's a nice open vowel, tends towards strained).
In the musical mood, I put on a mix with a good beat to help get me through the massive pile of dishes that I've been neglecting for the past 48 hours. Swaying and swiveling, I scrubbed and soaped... and then a nice harp piece came on, prompting me put down the dishes, stop the music, and take out my much-neglected harp. It still feels constricting and small after having spent four months learning on the big beauty at Lewis & Clark, but I was able to get a decent tone, and even practiced the right hand of a nice piece I'd worked up to in time for last April's recital. If I do make it over to Andrew's in the fall, it would be fantastic to actually devote some time to the harp in the land of bards and celtic music.
So it appears that the only musical parts of myself I will have not "practiced" today will be my guitar and the forgotten digeridoo that I just rediscovered while perusing the apartment for things that could be sold off in preparation for the move.
While I never made it to the reading portion of the day, I have managed to sing (both madrigal and irish), play (saxophone and harp), listen ("Anna's Birthday Mix" primarily instrumental playlist), and dance (heading to Holocene in about an hour with Ann) to music of all types. I forget sometimes that I grew up in a musical wind tunnel, thanks to my mother's profession, her music students, and my own early enrollment in both band and choir, and my later discovery of dance. While I don't constantly crave music, or notice if it's been missing for awhile, once I re-immerse myself, it's like a sort of home-coming. My mind quiets down, worries subside, and I tend to lose myself.
As much as I'm a visual person, I truly wonder about the question "would you rather be deaf or blind?" While I imagine I could still dance through felt-vibrations, I just don't know what a life without sound would do to my soul. I think losing my sight would affect my daily life more immediately, but losing my hearing feels like a deeper loss on the emotional level. Music is what allows me to cry.
So, in a musically perfect world, what would I have (what would I make) time for? I would be singing more often, and in different ways (group singing is great... but I'd love to be able to develop a solo voice with some confidence behind it). I would be dancing more often, and in different ways (sean nós is a lot of fun, but it doesn't fulfill my desire for either sensuality or partner contact... I'd love to do more salsa, swing, and modern/jazz). I would play more (harp is priority at this point... but it's nice to know I still have it in my fingers to play sax... and my poor guitar is not getting the accompaniment-strumming it needs to stay alive). I would also listen more, to a wider variety of music. I would discover more, know more about what I was listening to, understand more of the structure, subtleties, layers, tones, lyrics, and beats.
In short, I am a terribly greedy person. It appears I want more of everything... ;)
As it nears 9pm, I think it's time I turn my attention towards other things, like getting ready to go. Hopefully, in the near future, I can start to write more frequently... and perhaps a touch more creatively. I miss using words well.
I do believe that getting out into the crisp air this morning to play in the mud certainly helped start things out in the right direction. A 9am Hands On volunteer stint at Sellcrest Community Gardens had me fighting with the deep roots of fennel and the amazingly far-flung surface roots of wayward mint. Surrounded by others, but in my own dirt-strewn groove, I listened to Canadian conversations, observed worm villages, and unearthed many a centipede, millipede, spider, and beetle. It felt good to be out in the morning, hoofing shovel into earth with community harmony in mind.
Home again after the exertion, I hopped into a hot shower to de-muddify (I was certainly the dirtiest of all the volunteers, for whatever reason) and then set about to read... My day's plan was to settle in with both Cradle to Cradle (courtesy of Dwight, and quite the mind-pull) and the pretty "Learning Web Design" book, which I do hope to plow through at some point soon.
However, as is often the case, the afternoon didn't pan out quite the way I'd anticipated. First things first: Andrew was online. Joy! It had been two weeks minus a miniscule conversation on thursday morning before work. I wanted to catch him up on the goat farm visit, on work, on gardening, on sustainability masters programs. I wanted to be reminded of his smile, his voice, and why it is that I find myself more than half way into the second year of this long-distance attempt at couple-hood. We caught up for at least two hours, with intermittant interruptions from his mother, father, brother, exchange student (Andrea), and others, and I was reminded how full of people life will be if I move out there for a few months in the fall... whether or not it'll do me good or drive me crazy is to be determined. Somehow, Andrew convinced me to take out my saxophone and give it a whirl over skype so he could hear me play... I attempted Charlie Parker and failed pretty miserably, but some of the other six-year-old solos came out sounding half-decent. Reminded me that it's a shame that I can't seem commit to one instrument and actually get "great"... *sigh*
Post-skype, I talked to my mom briefly and learned that my paternal grandparents had invited Pete Seeger over for dinner when he'd come to Beirut to perform at AUB, thanks to my mom's music prof. It's funny how new things come out all the time about the people you feel you know best... you just have to ask the right question.
Then, convinced it would be an interlude to the scheduled reading time, I pulled up a new tab in FireFox and searched for "A stor mo croi" to try my voice at the song, sean nós style. Ever since Andrew introduced it to me, I've wanted to be able to adopt it as one of "my songs," since it appears that sean nós anything requires personal adaptation and ownership. Somehow, two hours later, I had sung through not only "A Stor mo croi" a good 15 times, but had also tackled some of the pieces we'd learned at the sean nós singing workshop back in January. With the help of Garage Band, I was able to tell what sounded good, what needed extra workshopping, and what range sounded best (I think I've decided I must be a mezzo-soprano, thanks to wikipedia's distinction). And, figuring I'd warmed up more than I ever would before thursday, I took out my madrigal books and stumbled through three new pieces, still straining for the high G (up to E and I'm clear... F starts to waiver, and the G, unless it's a nice open vowel, tends towards strained).
In the musical mood, I put on a mix with a good beat to help get me through the massive pile of dishes that I've been neglecting for the past 48 hours. Swaying and swiveling, I scrubbed and soaped... and then a nice harp piece came on, prompting me put down the dishes, stop the music, and take out my much-neglected harp. It still feels constricting and small after having spent four months learning on the big beauty at Lewis & Clark, but I was able to get a decent tone, and even practiced the right hand of a nice piece I'd worked up to in time for last April's recital. If I do make it over to Andrew's in the fall, it would be fantastic to actually devote some time to the harp in the land of bards and celtic music.
So it appears that the only musical parts of myself I will have not "practiced" today will be my guitar and the forgotten digeridoo that I just rediscovered while perusing the apartment for things that could be sold off in preparation for the move.
While I never made it to the reading portion of the day, I have managed to sing (both madrigal and irish), play (saxophone and harp), listen ("Anna's Birthday Mix" primarily instrumental playlist), and dance (heading to Holocene in about an hour with Ann) to music of all types. I forget sometimes that I grew up in a musical wind tunnel, thanks to my mother's profession, her music students, and my own early enrollment in both band and choir, and my later discovery of dance. While I don't constantly crave music, or notice if it's been missing for awhile, once I re-immerse myself, it's like a sort of home-coming. My mind quiets down, worries subside, and I tend to lose myself.
As much as I'm a visual person, I truly wonder about the question "would you rather be deaf or blind?" While I imagine I could still dance through felt-vibrations, I just don't know what a life without sound would do to my soul. I think losing my sight would affect my daily life more immediately, but losing my hearing feels like a deeper loss on the emotional level. Music is what allows me to cry.
So, in a musically perfect world, what would I have (what would I make) time for? I would be singing more often, and in different ways (group singing is great... but I'd love to be able to develop a solo voice with some confidence behind it). I would be dancing more often, and in different ways (sean nós is a lot of fun, but it doesn't fulfill my desire for either sensuality or partner contact... I'd love to do more salsa, swing, and modern/jazz). I would play more (harp is priority at this point... but it's nice to know I still have it in my fingers to play sax... and my poor guitar is not getting the accompaniment-strumming it needs to stay alive). I would also listen more, to a wider variety of music. I would discover more, know more about what I was listening to, understand more of the structure, subtleties, layers, tones, lyrics, and beats.
In short, I am a terribly greedy person. It appears I want more of everything... ;)
As it nears 9pm, I think it's time I turn my attention towards other things, like getting ready to go. Hopefully, in the near future, I can start to write more frequently... and perhaps a touch more creatively. I miss using words well.
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