Wandering Belka

Scott Bakal Oda a la VIDA, Pablo Neruda La noche enteracon un...

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 21:39:00 -0600

Oda a la VIDA, Pablo Neruda

La noche entera
con un hacha
me ha golpeado el dolor,
pero el sueño
pasó lavando como un agua oscura
piedras ensangrentadas.
Hoy de nuevo estoy vivo.
De nuevo
te levanto,
vida,
sobre mis hombros.

Oh vida, copa clara,
de pronto
te llenas
de agua sucia,
de vino muerto,
de agonía, de pérdidas,
de sobrecogedoras telarañas,
y muchos creen
que ese color de infierno
guardarás para siempre.

No es cierto.

Pasa una noche lenta,
pasa un solo minuto
y todo cambia.
Se llena
de transparencia
la copa de la vida.
El trabajo espacioso
nos espera.
De un solo golpe nacen las palomas.
Se establece la luz sobre la tierra.

Vida, los pobres
poetas
te creyeron amarga,
no salieron contigo
de la cama
con el viento del mundo.

Recibieron los golpes
sin buscarte,
se barrenaron
un agujero negro
y fueron sumergiéndose
en el luto
de un pozo solitario.

No es verdad, vida,
eres
bella
como la que yo amo
y entre los senos tienes
olor a menta.

Vida,
eres
una máquina plena,
felicidad, sonido
de tormenta, ternura
de aceite delicado.

Vida,
eres como una viña:
atesoras la luz y la repartes
transformada en racimo.

el que de ti reniega
que espere
un minuto, una noche,
un año corto o largo,
que salga
de su soledad mentirosa,
que indague y luche, junte
sus manos a otras manos,
que no adopte ni halague
a la desdicha,
que la rechace dándole
forma de muro,
como a la piedra los picapedreros,
que corte la desdicha
y se haga con ella
pantalones.
La vida nos espera
a todos
los que amamos
el salvaje
olor a mar y menta
que tiene entre los senos.

"I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me,..."

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 19:18:48 -0600

“I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.”

- Badass womyn writer, Anais Nin

Male Role Models & Recent School Shootings

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 19:35:35 -0600

Male Role Models & Recent School Shootings:

Long Distance Love Volunteers get known for different quirks and...

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 17:57:00 -0600

Long Distance Love

Volunteers get known for different quirks and characteristics-some for being funny, others for being from Texas or Boston. Me-I’m known as the married one. But not the nice married kind who comes with her husband to live happily together in a small, foreign village. No. I’m the weirdo who left her loving, kind, all-around wonderful partner behind.

I mean, I didn’t leave for just anything. I left for this-

and for this…

and for a lot of good reasons and experiences that I continue to realize and live. Nonetheless, it TOTALLY and COMPLETELY sucks to be away from my partner. And now even more so because I had a taste of what it was like to have him with me sharing this beautiful place and experience…

So that even though I know that it is for just a little bit longer (4 to possibly 5 months), I feel his absence IMMENSELY.

The way I live has changed. Previously, our quarters downstairs from the family was lively and busy with constant chirping and buzzing about that could be heard and felt. Now, it is just singular, quiet ol me. And so I have to turn my music way up. I have to start cleaning every little corner up and down and fill my minutes with every possible task in order to distract myself from noticing that he is no longer here.

But I also get a PLENTY of reminders: Stupid, little punkass kids breaking my window, stupid little family chucho (dog) losing all respect for me and entering my room and taking things (something he NEVER would have done around K), neighbors and friends asking where Kostya is?! Walking alone everywhere, gettin bothered by disrespectful, punkass grownass adult men.

And so I have figure out a way to balance it all out. Keep engaging in the experiences I absolutely LOVE:

And to stay engaged with the person who LOVED and LOVES me enough to support my going off and away in search of I’m still not really sure yet…All I do know is that I am very lucky and very loved.

No te quiero perder que la distancia se devore nuestra miel y...

Tue, 19 Feb 2013 15:33:14 -0600

No te quiero perder
que la distancia se devore nuestra miel
y perdamos la fe.
No te quiero tener
y cuando menos piense perderte otra vez,
me duele hasta piel.
Dentro de mí,
semillas tengo de ti
y sin ti
pueden querer morir.

Kostya has returned back to the States, and I’ll be back there soon, too, but it doesn’t hurt any less…Sin embargo, todo tiene q ver con la actitud, fe y por supuesto creatividad.

ONE BILLION RISING!!! UN BILLION A PIE!!! What are we waiting...

Tue, 12 Feb 2013 09:50:00 -0600

ONE BILLION RISING!!! UN BILLION A PIE!!!

What are we waiting for?….

10 Reasons to RISE…

Lysol as Birth Control and other lies that try to make us feel dirty

Sun, 27 Jan 2013 17:43:00 -0600

Lysol as Birth Control and other lies that try to make us feel dirty:

I just finished the piece above about the use of lysol for
douching back in the day and it really shocked and scared 
me and my precious vagina...and then it made me think 
about how we still do this-believe in the lies that we are 
dirty and gross and just need to clean ourselves up 
in order to be loved, wanted or normal. 

In the next coming months, some peace corps volunteers 
and I will be working with Population Council and local health 
centers to put on the Vagina Monologues. While reviewing
the script, the following monologue JUMPED out at me, 
especially since I often get crap from people about my hair
(in particular, from other fellow women-come on, ladies!)
...But I LOVE my hair! And thus, I will salute it...

YOU CANNOT LOVE A VAGINA

UNLESS YOU LOVE HAIR.

MANY PEOPLE DO NOT LOVE HAIR.

MY FIRST AND ONLY HUSBAND HATED HAIR.

HE SAID IT WAS CLUTTERED AND DIRTY.

HE MADE ME SHAVE MY VAGINA.

IT LOOKED PUFFY,

AND EXPOSED, LIKE A LITTLE GIRL.

THIS EXCITED HIM.

WHEN HE MADE LOVE TO MY VAGINA,

IT FELT THE WAY A BEARD MUST FEEL.

IT FELT GOOD TO SCRATCH IT, AND PAINFUL,

LIKE SCRATCHING A MOSQUITO BITE.

THERE WERE SCREAMING RED BUMPS.

IT FELT LIKE IT WAS ON FIRE.

I REFUSED TO SHAVE IT AGAIN.

THEN MY HUSBAND HAD AN AFFAIR.

WHEN WE WENT TO MARITAL THERAPY,

HE SAID HE SCREWED AROUND

BECAUSE I WOULDN'T PLEASE HIM SEXUALLY,

I WOULDN'T SHAVE MY VAGINA.

THE THERAPIST HAD A THICK GERMAN ACCENT,

AND SHE GASPED ( gasping )

BETWEEN SENTENCES ( gasping )

TO SHOW HER EMPATHY.

SHE ASKED ME WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO PLEASE MY HUSBAND,

WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO SHAVE MY VAGINA.

I TOLD HER I THOUGHT IT WAS WEIRD.

I FELT LITTLE WHEN MY HAIR WAS GONE DOWN THERE,

AND I COULDN'T HEL P TALKING IN A BABY VOICE.

AND EVEN CALAMINE LOTION WOULDN'T STOP THE IRRITATION.

SHE TOLD ME THAT MARRIAGE WAS A COMPROMISE.

I ASKED HER IF MY SHAVING MY VAGINA

WOULD STOP MY HUSBAND FROM SCREWING AROUND.

I ASKED HER IF SHE HAD MAN Y CASES LIKE THIS BEFORE.

SHE TOLD ME THAT QUESTIONS DILUTED THE PROCESS.

SHE WAS SURE IT WA S A GOOD BEGINNING,

I JUST NEEDED TO JUMP IN.

THIS TIME, WHEN WE GOT HOME, HE GOT TO SHAVE MY VAGINA.

IT WAS LIKE A THERAPY BONUS PRIZE.

HE CLIPPED IT A FEW TIMES,

AND THERE WAS A LITTLE BLOOD IN THE BATHTUB.

HE DIDN'T NOTICE,

HE WAS SO EXCITED SHAVING ME.

THEN, LATER, WHEN MY HUSBAND WAS PRESSING AGAINST ME,

I COULD FEEL HIS SPIKY SHARPNESS

STICKING INTO MY NAKED EXPOSED VAGINA.

THERE WAS NO PROTECTION.

THERE WAS NO FLUFF


AND I REALIZED THAT HAIR IS THERE FOR A REASON

IT'S THE LEAF AROUND THE FLOWER,

THE LAWN AROUND THE HOUSE.

YOU HAVE TO LOVE HAIR IN ORDER TO LOVE THE VAGINA.

YOU CAN'T PICK THE PARTS YOU WANT

AND BESIDES...

MY HUSBAND, WELL...

HE NEVER DID STOP SCREWING AROUND

(Hair, Vagina Monologues)

2012 in Review!

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 21:18:00 -0600

So…I haven’t updated this blog in a looong time! Which brings up the uncomfortable yet inevitable pregunta, “What the hell are you doing over there?!?”

Well, if you must know, I have actually had quite the productive past year. They often tell you that things pick up your second year as a peace corps volunteer and they are very right! The fire was being set all along and then came Kostya and it just took off!!…which unfortunately meant less time to just hang out with him and be lovey dovey lazy, but good things happened, indeed and he got to a part of a lot of it! Here are a few highlights from this past year…

After 6+ months of living out of my suitcase, I decided to ring in 2012 with the building of some spankin’ new wine bottle shelves!! And NO I did not drink ALL (although maybe some) of that wine!!

I also decided to paint mah walls up a lil….

Quote Wall…And although at the beginning of the school year, there is this nice, quiet calm before the storm, the storm of 2012 picked up soon enough! Through the months of Feb-June, I was swept up in youth groups, teacher and parent trainings and school anniversaries…

During one school anniversary, Kostya and I were special judges for one of my school’s Elección de Señorita (Homecoming, basically)

After the pageant, approximately 20+ tweens were packed into this tuctuc, which then shuttled us off to the homes of each contestant for snacks…and where the next 2 month bout of amoebas, giardia and 2 intestinal infections probably originated!

In May, A Recycled Art Contest took place at Las Violetas

We put on the 2nd annual Career Fair in June!! My ex-nun superwoman directora sprung into motivational action…

Then came 4th of July, where I danced back-up for my lovely friend, Alex, as she sang Adele’s Rolling in the Deep

4th of July was also a great time to reconnect with my Youth Development posse!

Then came Parade Season: Feria Titular de Nebaj (Aug. 15th) & Fiestas Patrias -Independence Day (Sep. 15th)

Los Guerreros Verdes (Green Warriors) seize a moment in the parade to educate about the environment…

In September, we organized a Youth Development day, complete with a soccer tournament and dance contest! An important lesson on the need for good referees was learned that day after a fight nearly broke out between the two final boys teams lol….

The event drew quite a crowd…

Click here for more pictures

We went on a magical journey with the girl’s group from Acul…

…through the 7 layers of the candy cane forest and past the sea of swirly twirly gumdrops!!

But seriously this place is magical!! Vixocom is a small village up high and surrounded everywhere by rocks…so high and cold that they cannot grow corn!!! UNBELIEVABLE!!!

Click here for more pictures

In late Fall, my fellow youth promoters and I dabbled in some more YD (Youth Development) love…

Then, came the summer camp extravaganza…

Environmental Ed Camp: Campamento Unq’a Tze (Camp of the Trees), where we did a lot of hikes, trash clean-ups, etc…

Girl’s GLOW Camp: Campamento Unq’a T’xumil (Camp of the Stars)

Last day field trip to one of the waterfalls!

and finally the last and biggest camp, a cultural diversity camp: Proyecto Identidad (the Identity Project) where we brought youth from Pachalum and Nebaj to Antigua for a cultural exchange and training on identity, culture, discrimination, and of course LOTS of Sexed :) Here they are imagining they are getting on a bus and deciding who to sit next to and why…

Click here for more pictures

Amazing groups we collaborated with for the camps:

International Institute for the Learning of Social Reconciliation (IIARS), ALAS Reproductive Health Services, Population Council, Espacios Amigables, Fundacion contra el Hambre, Oficina de la Mujer, Area Comunitaria del Hospital Nacional de Nebaj and CommonHope

When that was all over, I got to spend a perfect Christmas with my aunt and cousin who decided to visit Guatemala and even come to my site!!!

This is one of my favorite artists of all time and this piece...

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 14:21:00 -0600

This is one of my favorite artists of all time and this piece especially reminds me of Guatemala where everyone is carrying quite the load…

Welcome 2013!!!!!!!

Always be mindful of the kindness and not the faults of others.

OVERCOME: greed with generosity, anger with loving kindness, ignorance with understanding…Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by LOVE

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.

Everybody can be great…because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.

You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings.

Clearing out your misery gets you out of the way. You cease being an obstacle, not only to yourself, but to anyone else. Only then are you free to serve and enjoy other people.

I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood.

“I was going to die, sooner or later, whether or not I had even spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silences will not protect you…. What are the words you do not yet have? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language.”

I began to ask each time: “What’s the worst that could happen to me if I tell this truth?” Unlike women in other countries, our breaking silence is unlikely to have us jailed, “disappeared” or run off the road at night. Our speaking out will irritate some people, get us called bitchy or hypersensitive and disrupt some dinner parties. And then our speaking out will permit other women to speak, until laws are changed and lives are saved and the world is altered forever.

Next time, ask: What’s the worst that will happen? Then push yourself a little further than you dare. Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it’s personal. And the world won’t end.

And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don’t miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” And at last you’ll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.”
― Audre Lorde

Brecht Evens A NYC Taxi driver wrote: I arrived at the address...

Mon, 10 Dec 2012 10:28:56 -0600

Brecht Evens

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Trading stories and getting woven into each other's lives

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 13:37:00 -0600

In Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities, [he] described an imaginary town called Eufemia, where the merchants of all nations gather at every solstice and every equinox to exchange goods. But these merchants do not come together merely to trade spices or jewels or livestock or textiles. Rather, they come to this town to exchange stories with each other- to literally trade in personal intimacies. The way it works, Calvino wrote, is that the men gather around the desert bonfires at night, and each man offers up a word, like “sister” or “wolf”, or “buried treasure”. Then all the other men take turns telling their own personal stories of sisters, of wolves, of buried treasures. And in the months to come, long after the merchants leave Eufemia, when they ride their camels alone across the desert or sail the long route to China, each man combats his boredom by dredging through his old memories. And that’s when the men discover that their memories really have been traded-that, as Calvino wrote, “their sister has been exchanged for another’s sister, their wolf for another’s wolf.”

This is what intimacy does to us over time. That’s what a long marriage can do: It causes us to inherit and trade each other’s stories. This, in part, is how we become annexes of each other, trellises on which each other’s biography can grow.

(taken from Committed, Elizabeth Gilbert)

On a quest to form youth groups...

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 21:22:49 -0600

As a youth development volunteer working in the básicos (middle schools) day in , day out, naturally I drift off into memories of my own youthful days and can’t help but compare those memories with my current experience of juventud alive and well here in Guatemala. One difference that always surfaces is the falta of opportunities for learning outside the classroom and school schedule. The abrupt end of the school atmosphere and community once that clock strikes 6:00pm (or in our experience, 5, 4pm or before the school day even begins!). ..Especially for the girls, who usually must return home straight away to help prepare lunch or dinner.

Club de Señoritas: Las Chicas Aculenses, Acul, Nebaj (their funny photo)

For me, my best learning has occurred when I felt free, trusted and enabled to steer a subject in the direction I felt most meaningful and important. This usually happened after school in extracurricular activities and sports. ”So, why not try bringing some good ol’ extracurricular activities to my kiddos here in Nebaj?”, I thought. And so the “Formación de grupos juveniles” quest began…And I call it a quest because I am still on it, still working on llegaring (arriving) to that point of steady, replicable, sustainable success we all long for. Nevertheless it feels good to be on this path: excited, motivated, constantly challenged and constantly learning.

Asociacion del Medio Ambiente: Los Ambientalistas de La Pista, Nebaj

My first step in forming youth clubs was identifying the interests of those pesky patojos and aligning those with skills and experiences I have to offer. This resulted in my sketching out of 3 pilot clubs: Club de Señoritas, Asociación del Medio Ambiente and Asociación Intercultural. Inspired, I typed out in my fanciest español three propuestas for these groups and presented them to my schools. Of course, every school was interested…until they got to the requirements part of the presentation! In order to give these groups some chance of sustainability after I leave, I am “requiring” that each school recruit one teacher to advise the group and at least one adult community member to help in the actual planning and facilitating of activities. For those schools that have gotten teachers and community volunteers on board, the difference is very noticeable and positive. For example, in one of the communities where we have a club de señoritas, the adult leader is a former student of the instituto. She knows each and every chiquita and their momma and is straight up Nebajense típica, so now I need not worry when the inevitable verguenza and blank stares abound during charlas, alls I need to do is turn to dear, sweet Petronila and within minutes of her quick and feisty Ixil translation, the girls are all ready and eager to compartir!

Club de Señoritas:Las Chicas Guatemaltecas, Pulay, Nebaj

Currently the groups meet every other week or at least twice a month. Slowly I hope to transition the community leaders to facilitating activities on their own, but for now, I feel pretty good. Every week I gain a little more confianza with the kids and learn more about their communities. Slowly the clubs are becoming a regular staple of the schools and communities. They are something new and different and being a part of them makes the kids and me feel special.

Asociacion del Medio Ambiente: Los Guerreros Verdes, Las Violetas, Nebaj

Of course, there are days where only 5 show up and other days where 50 show up. And there are days when I feel totally unprepared and have 20-something bright eyed patojos just waiting for me to wow them. Geez, there are times when I am not sure if they even like me! But it is in those precise moments when I have to step back and remind myself of my own twisted, confusing youth and slowly but surely the coveted Oprah “A-ha” moment arrives: Teenagers are just whack! They’re just complicated, hormone-driven creatures in limbo between childhood and adulthood-not a girl/boy, not yet a woman/man. If by some small, tiny measure these groups bring them some sense of belonging, calm and/or purpose, then I will consider my quest complete.

At last, my loOove has come around....

Fri, 10 Aug 2012 15:45:00 -0600

Kostya has been here with me now over 2 months and it has been soooooo nice to have my partner back by my side: waking up to the person I love, having my best friend around to help me out, walkin around town hand-in-hand…I get used to having him around so quickly, it’s just so natural and right. Which means that when the time comes for him to leave, it’s gonna be reaaally difficult.

But at least we can say we’ve done this before…

Days before I left for Guatemala, I bought a camera. I hadn’t had time to try it out, so the morning of my departure, we did just that and these are the results: the most depressing pictures in the world…

Us trying to keep it together. Trying to be positive and optimistic, while inside, a wave of sadness, fear and panic takes hold…

Minutes later I would burst into a hurricane of sobs as i passed through the security line. I could literally feel my heart break-that’s how strongly I felt. You know how they say that certain scents, colors and textures can conjure flashbacks to particular memories, well emotion definitely also simulates that whole process because I can think back to that morning and those pictures and every feeling rushes back into my being. It is that powerful.

Throughout my time here I’ve looked back at those pictures and thought about how this experience has changed me and us as a couple, and fortunately in more good ways than bad. So, when I found out Kostya would be coming here to stay and hang out for a good while, I figured we should balance out those departure pictures with some arrival/reunion pictures. Capture another intense feeling-that feeling of long awaited reunion…

can’t believe my eyes joy, anticipation, excitement, happiness…

LOVE!

saying goodbye to Nebaj's most infamous expat...

Tue, 17 Jul 2012 19:09:00 -0600

saying goodbye to Nebaj's most infamous expat...:

Thanks, Caitlin, for summing up our sentiments oh soo well! Dear ol grumpy Don will be greatly missed here in Nebaj…

Above the town, Marc Chagall It happened almost a month ago now:...

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 14:10:00 -0600

Above the town, Marc Chagall

It happened almost a month ago now: I had been corriendo from one place to the next that day, trying to get as much done as possible before leaving my beloved site and in a mad rush to finish Shereeen’s birthday card, wash clothes, pack and make the last micro outta Nebaj, I took off and misplaced my wedding ring. When it didn’t turn up in any of the usual places, I panicked…I was torn between disregarding my weekend plans and searching my house up and down until I found it and needing to make this one last micro. I compromised and tore apart my room armed with a flashlight, giving up at the last minute possible, then literally running to the catch the micro as it drove out of Nebaj.

As was expected, I got the half-way seat created from moving the driver’s seat completely forward and upright. Some part of the engine is definitely burning beneath that seat, cuz you literally burn your ass off and are best advised to wear clothing that does not directly expose your skin to this burning-hot surface! Needless to say, my physical discomfort was usurped by the emotional distress and plain ol’ heartbreak that overwhelmed me. Now, admittedly I am a drama queen with regards to these asuntos, but I truly felt like my subconscious had played an evil trick on me that afternoon, like some hidden force within me drove me to misplace my ring without me consenting or much less noticing. Like this was all a realized metaphor for what I am doing or have done to my actual marriage. Set it aside, forgotten about it and gone along my own way.

And I felt and often feel incredibly guilty and selfish. Even though philosophically I believe in the idea of 2 individuals sharing their lives in a way that also supports each one’s unique, and sometime separate, pursuits, realistically this is difficult. Because there are always going to be differences, challenges and disconnection. Distance only magnifies all that. Clears away the minor details in order to make present the core and true depth and condition of your relationship.

Because I imagine a relationship as something like a ven diagram…two separate spheres of experience coming together and creating this overlap of shared experiences, ideas and interests. Some of this overlap is achieved easily-almost naturally and without much effort, but a good part is crafted and developed with great care and effort. And I believe it is that totally new part created that ends up being the real basis and core of the relationship, because it is completely and uniquely yours as a couple. Something real and beautiful created where there was nothing before. It’s magical, really.

And so that’s what you have left when the distance eats away at all the simpler, less substantial connections. Whatever you built together and work toward maintaining. However, even with nearly 7 years of carefully and lovingly building this thing all our own, this experience simply invites and encourages my larger individual sphere to grow and pull away in its own direction. For the first time in my life, I am on my own and it is no longer scary or weird, but instead comfortable and even freeing. I like who I am becoming-even with the doubts, fear and uncertainty.

Luckily for me, Kostya also likes who I am becoming, even when it has meant more distance between us. He truly loves and supports me-to the point that could be risky-but only because he also truly believes in the beautiful, magical thing we’ve created together. For me, that is true love. And it also something I really believe in and want only to grow.

Anyway, this past Sunday I finally got a chance to go all clean-freak chloro and toothbrush in hand on my house. While sweeping the beneath the sink, the sound of metal klinked across the floor and out came my ring! I almost couldn’t believe it. I had been looking for almost a month now and had pretty much given up. However, what I clearly hadn’t done was sweep my kitchen floor :P Surprisingly my host dog who regularly rampages my kitchen, stealing raisins (that have yet to be returned, chucho!) and whatever else is on the floors or within reach, did not get to my ring and eat it like he has to at least 2 pen caps!! Miracle? Perhaps, I am generous with the term, but at the end of the day, I prefer to believe in magic. I prefer to believe in the us we created and continue to create.

"With my trash all packed back up and hidden in the black bags, I realized there was a reason I..."

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 12:30:00 -0600

“

With my trash all packed back up and hidden in the black bags, I realized there was a reason I didn’t want to look at it. There is a reason why trash bags aren’t made of transparent plastic that would allow us to see inside. It is the same reason I and my kind keep bodily remains in closed coffins. We’re uncomfortable with what we might see.

It is because, having to look at our garbage on a daily basis, people like me would be faced-again, daily-with hard questions about how we live. We’d have to ask ourselves questions like the one I was faced with as I humped my trash bags to the bins down the hall: Do we work for and pay for all this convenience in order to live our lives, or do we live our lives in order to work for and pay for all this convenience? (42)

”

- No Impact Man

No Impact Project

http://waidsworld.wordpress.com/2011/08/07/the-real-peace-corps/ ...

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 12:33:00 -0600

http://waidsworld.wordpress.com/2011/08/07/the-real-peace-corps/

Art by Gail Armstrong

Joyce Ellen Weinstein Through our eyes, the universe is...

Sun, 19 Feb 2012 22:15:03 -0600

Joyce Ellen Weinstein

Through our eyes, the universe is perceiving itself. Through our ears, the universe is listening to its harmonies. We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its glory, of its magnificence

Mother’s Care

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 10:02:00 -0600

Mother’s Care

This song is for you, dear friend. I hope to see you again one...

Wed, 01 Feb 2012 20:21:31 -0600

This song is for you, dear friend. I hope to see you again one day. Until then, keep inspiring me and thank you.