unexpected glimmers

"I can't find you... ARE YOU UPSTAIRS SLEEPING IN MY BED?" L texted halfway through the evening, making me giggle. 

Actually, I'd left her holiday party early, and Big had brought me back home because I'd started some story and was going to cry. But before that I had a really great time. 

J's very timely post on how to survive the holiday season and the one Nicole directed me to on Cup of Jo came in useful!

And look, the hyacinths I randomly stuck into various planters are beginning to show... This one by my reading chair announced itself through its fragrance and then I saw its precious pink candy stripes.

Also, Max, Maxie, Max-a-Million, my late-in-life, baby is underfoot, curious, and with me everywhere.

stopping by the woods on a snowy... afternoon

I graded most of the day and then sat on my butt trying to motivate myself to get off it when L emailed to see if I was up for a walk.

I was.

Except I couldn't find my phone when she came to pick me up. She tried calling, but my ringer is usually off when I'm teaching, so that didn't work. We finally found it using "Find My Phone" under a pile of kitchen laundry I'd been folding and then abandoned some time this morning.

All of which to say, when we got to Baker Woods, it was the much needed rest and reset I needed.

And now back to my regularly scheduled promises to keep and all the miles to go before I sleep.

Pic: Baker Woods with L.

Intersecting at Stoppard

Tom Stoppard died this week. I've been in awe of his work since I was an undergraduate, maybe even before I actually ever read his work, simply from the sheer audacity of the premise of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. The more I knew, the more there was to love. Later, he fed my theory that writers who come to a language late as foreigners (like Conrad, Rushdie, Nabokov, Brodsky, Stoppard) write so precisely, because they have some additional intuitive insight into language. Much later, I learned of his deep connections to India as it played out in Arcadia and Indian Ink.  (In the linked article here, I was charmed to see a reference to Hermione Lee a much beloved English professor and the president of my college at Oxford.)

And it turns out that theater is life. 

In a literal sense. 

In a letter to the Times of London, in response to Stoppard's obituary, Michael Baum, a Professor emeritus of surgery, wrote: "In 1993 my wife and I went to see the first production of Arcadia by Tom Stoppard and in the interval I experienced a Damascene conversion. As a clinical scientist I was trying to understand the enigma of the behaviour of breast cancer, the assumption being that it grew in a linear trajectory spitting off metastases on its way. In the first act of Arcadia, Thomasina asks her tutor, Septimus: "If there is an equation for a curve like a bell, there must be an equation for one like a bluebell, and if a bluebell, why not a rose?" With that Stoppard explains chaos theory, which better explains the behaviour of breast cancer. At the point of diagnosis, the cancer must have already scattered cancer cells into the circulation that nest latent in distant organs. The consequence of that hypothesis was the birth of adjuvant systemic chemotherapy and rapidly we saw a striking fall of the curve that illustrated patients' survival. Stoppard never learnt how many lives he saved by writing Arcadia."

[As it turns out, I wrote a letter to the editor myself this week trying to reach David Shulman. I actually met David in the late 1990s at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. I was with a group of people at IAS and heard someone say "Tamil Pessalama?" (Shall we speak Tamil?). I turned around expecting to see a Tamil person (the intonation and accent were so perfect), but here was this genial white guy. David is a genius (a MacArthur Genius even!) and works on poets I revere. But more recently and importantly, he's been a lifeline for me with his tireless work and compassionate voice for Palestine. I wrote a note thanking him and sent it to him at his university email address, but it was deemed undeliverable. So I then sent it to the letters editor at NYRB where he has written most recently with an earnest request to forward it... and they must have! Because this morning, I received a lovely email from David that brought tears to my eyes. (I wonder how much of my letter writing is due to reading The Correspondent!)]

Pic: Michael Baum's Letter in The Times. All the deaths since mom's seem extra poignant--Andrea Gibson, Robert Redford, Diane Keaton, Alice Wong, Dharmendra, Jimmy Cliff--I'm seeing them all through her connections to them too.

some noes

I would have been miserable as a lawyer. I had to do lawyer-like things today in my role as a CASA and also in my role as a Title IX advisor on campus, and while they were necessary things, I felt quite unhappy doing them. It reminded me a bit of what our realtor JS said. He used to be a cop and said he liked being a realtor because when he was a cop, 90% of his interactions with people were negative and as a realtor, it was the inverse. 

*

I had a good time at the thrift store (I found some great copies of some fairly recent books) but somehow managed to forget the one thing I actually went in there for... an old lampshade I plan to use as a collar for our Christmas tree.

*

Speaking of which, no--our tree isn't up. I took Thanksgiving down just this past weekend, and I like a little palate cleanser... all the better to savor Christmas decorations. (Also, the kids won't be here until mid December, which is when the tree will come up from the basement. Hallelujah.)

Pic: I kind of did decorate for Thanksgiving! (And didn't do *anything* for Halloween.)

beyond thankful

Today is At's Boss Day.  

And it made her so happy to hear that Big A's favorite photo from Thanksgiving was this one of At on the sofa with the puppies, because it is so reminiscent of that whole genre of paintings from the 19th century, where women are reclining luxuriously on sofas while reading with pets--except this one is updated for the 21st century by At reading on her phone.

I mean... it's nice, I suppose, to be compared to a fancy lady in a painting... But also, while Big A's love was never in question, he used to brag a lot about "my boy" and found At's transition tough, so this compliment meant a lot to At.

And a shoutout to whatever art appreciation course Big A took in college. Some of it may come from his artist grandparents and mom, but his art references frequently have me looking stuff up.
_______________
ALSO, THANK YOU FOR READING!! It's going to take me a minute to get through the comments...

post Friendsgiving post

While I was puttering around, putting things away after dinner, I found these three (At, Huck, and Max) all cozied up...

At told me she's moving to Chicago at the end of year. 

"At the end of the year," so there's some time, I thought. Before realizing that it's already the end of November. 

I'm happy for her as she's outgrown Lansing. And she was supposed to move to Seattle this year before all the tragedies happened. And Chicago is much closer. But it will mean that our impromptu trips and hangs are numbered.

Nu who was napping elsewhere when I took this pic watched the Lilith Fair documentary with me. I watched it earlier this month and LOVED IT SO MUCH. I laughed, I cried, I goosebumped up, I texted people about it, I was inspired... When I say something is feminist, this is what I want it to mean--not merely that it's women-centered, but that it is anti-patriarchal. That it is about people who support each other, that they offer opportunities to groups who are typically shut out, that they make childcare and family healthcare available, that they listen to critique (for instance, that black women artists are underrepresented) without getting defensive and work to fix it, that there is confidence being in such a space that racists and homophobes are unwelcome. 

Nu and I were looking at each other all starry-eyed, wishing we could go to one...

T for Thanksgiving!

I like how our additional table (build a longer table is my guiding motto), turns our seating into a T for Thanksgiving!

(Although I want to call it Friendsgiving or Thanksloving or something else entirely to avoid celebrating colonial narrative... even as I acknowledge the aspect of gratitude... anyway...)

among my more mundane considerations

One of the weirder things I've caught myself thinking is that now that I have my my mom's picture on the altar in addition to Scout's picture, my Baldwin votary, and all the Hindu, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Pagan, and other spiritual paraphernalia I have going on...

no one else better die because 

I have no more room on the altar.

news from far and near

Horrified to hear Megyn "R. Kelly," as some wag on the internet framed her, try to vindicate Jeffrey Epst*in using semantics. Of course, a 15-year-old is a child.

Saddened to hear of Alice Wong's passing. She zoomed with our students twice in the years after Disability Visibility came out and it was transformational for everyone. She was such a champion for Gaza too. Getting E-sim cards out to people so they could communicate was one of her big causes lately.

Defeated to hear that despite the so-called ceasefire, bombs and gunfire have killed and injured nearly a thousand people in Gaza and that rains have swept away whole tent cities leaving families with no shelter. The Israeli government has not allowed replacement aid in yet.

I continue to be mopey (and also mentally kicking myself for not lying out in the sun even once in PR when I had the chance, WTH?). But I reviewed the copy-edited manuscript and sent it off to the editor after sitting on it for over a month. I kept finding something to tweak every time I opened it; I decided I just have to let go. So off it went! I liked writing the acknowledgements and of course I dedicated it to Amma.

And I'm glad to be home.

Pic: Walk with Lynn to The Healing Gardens. Those koi have gotten so big!

lightness

 J is a francophile, so while we were texting about something else, I mentioned being in Paris and she suggested I light a candle for my mom. 

I could kick myself for not thinking of it myself. I wish I had done it at Notre Dame where we visited on Monday. I've talked before about how much she loved when I translated Anatole France's short story "Le Jongleur de Notre Dame" from my high school french textbook for her.

But of course, the story doesn't take place at the cathedral, it takes place at a some abbey in rural France, so I went to the church down the street to light a candle. And then later we happened to head to Montmartre for dinner and climbed up to the Basilica of Sacré-Coeur, where I got to light another candle for my mom. 

I feel all lit up myself and the most present I've felt on this trip. Thanks for the idea, J <3.

Pic: View from the steps of the basilica. 

excess ugh

 I liked this picture I took of the Chateau of Versailles best...

but I realized I didn't have any pictures of myself on this trip

so I took a picture in the Hall of Mirrors 

where the Treaty of Versailles was signed in 1919

(plus that would sit better with my commie family, anyway)

competing and playing

The actual competition was today...

Advisors got to sit in the judging room silently while the team presented and answered questions. 

(Notes: One judge seemed intent on pressing for industry prospects while our students were altruistically focussed on conservation efforts. Our proposal emphasized our local expertise, and they wanted to hear more about global application--something to remember for next time.)

We took off to see come iconic sights in the evening. I've done "le tour" before, so I elected to sit at a cafe with my book and a pot of peppermint tea. 
 

how comedians are born

Instagram has been feeding me reels of standup comedian Gianmarco Soresi, whom I find funny. I've been watching the whole reel, which means the algorithm has been sending me more including his TV and podcast appearances, and attendance at political rallies including Zohran Mamdani's. 

The other day, I was idly telling Big A about GS and how he seemed to be funny AND smart. 

"Oh! said Big A."Funny AND smart!" It's the people who are funny and smart who didn't get into medical school who become comedians." 

It made no sense at all, but it was kind of funny. 

I wrote about her a lot

...and it felt nice to share the quirky things she used to via the poems.

I wondered if it would make me sad, but it made me happy to see other people smiling and enjoying her quirks too. 

A reading from the Sing Anthology as part of the Chippewa Valley Writing Festival. 

nice day for...*

Today was a nice day for an "Alternative Break." I'd always promised myself that I'd go on these service breaks with a group from the college when I was an empty nester.

It felt very therapeutic to throw myself into using my body to lug things to fill two forty-foot dumpsters for the Habitat for Humanity ReStore. I thought a lot of the stuff that went to the landfill today could be reused, but the people at the store had already had it for a while and needed to make room. They know what's best for them, so I just did what I was asked to do.

At lunch, one of the students referred to my recent India trip and asked how I was doing. I hadn't mentioned anything to this group, so I asked how they knew. Turns out they know a student in one of my classes. I wonder if I've been a little "off" for that student to mention it to other people.

Also, I met a volunteer at the store who had been in the Peace Corps in the 1960s (and she's still volunteering!). She'd served in India so we talked a while about all the ways in which things have changed (not for the better). She said she'd just read and loved the new Kiran Desai The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny, which I'd planned to read, because I loved Desai's last novel (was it really nearly 20 years ago?). So I came home and started on that right away.

Pic: A brilliant sky and the practical backlot at the Habitat gig today.

*I can't hear "nice day for..." without Billy Idol snarling "White Wedding" in my head every time!

"gratitude fosters abundance"

Thank you for the words of encouragement in the comments yesterday... I didn't realize how much I needed to hear them until I heard them. I'll pass it on to At, but please know they really, really helped me too. 

I was a bit downcast today--I blame the cloudy then rainy weather, the national and world news, dropping off excess from the campus gender-affirming closet at a donation center that took me past the homeless encampment, and watching Alien: Earth with Big A last night. Corporate greed and fuckery are everywhere and worries for my kids, kids in general, and the world kind of took over my brain. 

I'm rereading Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass and she gets right to the heart of it: “modern capitalist societies, however richly endowed, dedicate themselves to the proposition of scarcity. Inadequacy of economic means is the first principle of the world’s wealthiest peoples. The shortage is due not to how much material wealth there actually is, but to the way in which it is exchanged or circulated.  Grain may rot in the warehouse while hungry people starve because they cannot pay for it. The result is famine for some and diseases of excess for others.”

She fills my soul when she talks about how gratitude fosters abundance (when we say thanks, we find so much to be thankful for!) and how she taught her daughters to garden so "they would always have a mother to love them, long after I am gone.” So I spent some time with the trees, grass, and plants when I got home to reset. There is so much to be grateful for... It's only a question of redistribution.

Pic: The Maple River on my way to work. It's what the kids and I used to call our "deep breath of beauty."

https://www.pocobrat.net/2024/05/standing-in-beauty.html   

https://www.pocobrat.net/2024/02/check-1-2.html 

https://www.pocobrat.net/2020/01/sunrise-snip.html

https://www.pocobrat.net/2019/10/here-comes-sun.html 

https://www.pocobrat.net/2021/11/maple-moment.html 

At crossroads

Today was At's last shift at Chipotle and At re-posted this ironic-meta-celebratory picture of themselves reading about themselves from three years ago when they made labor history by unionizing. It has been three years of hoping to change workplace systems and being jerked around by corporate intermediaries. After three years of negotiations, they just weren't able to reach a contract and worker pay has been frozen for the duration. This has been so depressing and frustrating. (This happens to be the case with the historic Starbucks workers unions as well--although there are over 500 unionized stores, not a single one has been able to reach a contract.)

2022 was euphoric. It felt full of possibility... like things were at the tipping point. Governor Gretchen Whitmer wrote At a letter; there were articles about At in Slate, Labor Notes, Jacobin, The Washington Post, NPR and on and on; Bernie Sanders tweeted their win; Michael Moore dropped At's name; and then... two+ years of stagnation. I keep telling At that this still counts for so much and that they've made a difference. And I 100% believe all of it. I hope that with today's closure, At is able to find the next thing to get fired up about and that peace and success follow. (Between this disappointment and the recent personal tsunami, what a sad year it has been for my first-born.)

Pic: At's repost today from 2022: "at the first ever shift at the first ever unionized chipotle reading about some nerd." (The nerd they're reading about is themselves in The Washington Post. Also, the 14K likes on that tweet!) Normally, I wouldn't post a pre-transition picture, but since At shared this one publicly today, I guess it's ok. 

gathering my flowers this week

Nearing the end of the first week of Fall classes, I want to record these small, random work-related nicenesses for good cheer. It's like that old labor song says, "Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too."  (Such a poignant song, and this version in one of my favorite movies, Pride, always makes me choke up. Cross-cultural solidarity is my everything.)

Relayed

Two different people told me that incoming first years told them that they were here because they'd met me. I think it means I did a good job of showing how our college would be a good match for them rather than anything more dazzling.

Overheard

I was getting ready to leave for a class when I overheard colleagues in the hallway gushing about how colorful and cozy my office is. I recognized at least two voices and consider them good friends, but felt too bashful to acknowledge that I could hear them.

Backchat

A colleague emailed me to say: “Hello Maya! I do an icebreaker of "Dream Dinner Party" where people talk about five people they'd invite to their dinner party and why and one of my students included you in theirs. I just thought that was lovely and wanted to share!” Yay! I do love parties!

D.M. 

And I saved the best for last. I was already eager to read dear Nicole's novel, Inhale Exhale. And this week I learned that when casting about for a name for a "kind teacher" in her novel, Nicole chose mine. I feel so incredibly honored. And I'm so grateful to be remembered as a teacher. And a kind one! Nicole embodies compassion; to be thought of as kind by her is indeed an honor. This is such generosity, I feel as I did when my old student named a teacher/mentor character in his video game after me.

Pic: Zinnias (I think?) outside my office building this week.

Glimmers

It's Ganesha Chaturthi today; my first time celebrating without At and Nu here. I talked to At and Nu, chatted with my mom and sis, gave all our Ganeshas fresh kumkum and flowers, ate the mango, coconut sweets, and bananas myself, and then took myself off to book club in the evening. 

I refuse to be sad today; some glimmers on this auspicious day:

*The news of Taylor Swift's engagement made me happy. She's written about disappointment and heartbreak for nearly two decades, and it's lovely to see her with someone who seems to honor her.

*I wish I could exchange places for at least a day with someone who'd never heard of Donald Trump. But Rebecca Solnit pointed out that people are doing so many amazing things to right the wrongs of this administration.  "The ACLU is super-busy. Lawyers are suing like crazy. Democratic state a.g.s are talking every morning about their collective lawsuits. Protestors are in the streets, maybe 5 million at No Kings, there's lots of interference with ICE, 50501 was created expressly for this, Indivisible is growing by leaps and bounds, I'm seeing so many photographs of so many signs on overpasses, people are stepping up to help immigrants in all sorts of ways..."

*Although this study is a quarter century old, I just learned that instead of "fight or flight" women usually "tend and befriend" under stress. Women are inclined to nurture, protect, promote safety and create social networks instead of fleeing or fighting--brilliant! The paper is here. 

*Not that this is something anyone who's benefitted from being loved by puppies needs proof of. But an Emory University study using MRIs by Dr. Gregory Berns indicates that dogs brains light up more actively for praise (i.e. human interaction/affection) than food. Our canine friends and babies love us!

*Pic: This morning, Big A takes off for the five-day DALMAC bike tour as he usually does this time of the year. I think Jeanie may recognize his bicycling club jersey. Since he's been so sick this year, we weren't sure he'd make it through all five days and were determined to take it day by day. I didn't know that I'd be rescuing him from Dewitt after half a day. Ok, the glimmer: He's off for the next four days, so he gets to rest and recuperate. 

the news is sadness

I legit started to cry when I read that Serena Williams... THE Serena Williams, the GOAT... is taking weight-loss medications. People should do whatever they want with their own bodies, obviously. But the idea that this body which propelled her to greatness somehow needed to be made... smaller, made me feel hopeless about people ever being able to escape social size standards. Perhaps this hit me harder because Nicole wrote so movingly about maitri and self-love towards oneself this week. And perhaps some of this was because Big A, who before being sick was the fittest person I know personally--running marathons, doing triathlons, and once even besting Usain Bolt on the Peloton--was thrilled about having lost a significant amount of weight. He has been ill for nearly two months--how is his resultant body change something celebratory?

And then it turns out that our Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy sent letters to all 50 governors calling for the removal of Pride crosswalks. (The connection between transportation and crosswalks seems a bit tenuous to me?) Florida has been the first state to comply. In many places including at the Pulse Nightclub memorial where many LGBTQ people were gunned down in 2016, residents have been chalking pride colors back where they are being erased, and now the governor is sending the police to stand at crosswalks to make sure that doesn't happen. Is this really the most pressing issue for law enforcement? These people seem to have no sense or shame.

Pic: Sunrise with Max. It's in the 40s and chilly this week! Too soon!