beam me up, I guess

Now in Sarasota, FL, which is a (small) city. I don't know why I didn't know that or why I did not look it up. Whatever happened to my growth mindset?!

But here I am. Long journey--two planes. While we were waiting to board the second plane (we were in Group 8), they began boarding the first-class passengers. A student (only) half-jokingly asked when they would get to travel first-class and I really felt that. I held up my hands in blessing and said I hope it happens soon for them. (So long as they don't go into teaching, I guess.)

Typing this from a camp cot in a church dormitory. The fam was a bit concerned about me navigating communal living because I can be a bit princess-y, but I'm doing fine so far. 

We're supposed to do some grocery shopping for the week tomorrow. I want to make one or two dinners for the group...

I kinda miss Max and Huckie already. I would miss Big A, but he was on the verge of doing something I disagreed with, so I'm a bit mad at him.

Pic: Another crepuscular sighting!

visiting

A video call with dad and sis this evening. I was kind of saying goodbye as I don't know what the internet situation will be like next week. It was so centering to see them.... To hear my sister tell me that I should have a conversation with mom when I wake up on my birthday.

Can I just say how kind everyone has been?!? "Unfailingly" is the word that comes to mind. Family and friends. My community. They have helped me keep the important things going even when other things fell away. 

Steph recently noted that I don't seem to be out walking much, and that is so true! I rarely seem to venture out unless it is with someone. That's a far cry from most times in my life and I hope I'll go back to craving my own company.  

But also the kindness of everyone who stops by! I think often of Jenny's calendar of grief. And I've saved so many comments of comfort and reassurance in an email file that I open up to reread often. I read Jeanie's when I don't have faith in myself because she seems to and seems to know so much that I don't. So it was a treat to get to spend teatime with her.

Pic: The fabulous Jeanie with Max and Huckie!

red.blue.white.

The Detroit Pistons hats we got for Christmas were blue and red, so I assumed the team wearing blue and red were the team to root for. But apparently the home team wears light colors and they were the team in white. 

So naturally I switched my allegiance. We won handily.

Pic: From our nosebleed seats in Little Caesar's Arena. Big A and I were marveling at how we'd never deign to eat Little Caesar's pizza in our everyday lives, but when we're at the game, that pizza is like a siren call!

midterm thoughts

It's like clockwork how I adore my students by the midterm mark, and this term is no different. And perhaps requited in a small way? One of them wrote, "YOU'RE A GEM" after we'd resolved some tech issue. (I wanted to shout back, "I KNOW!")

Just finished a ton of midterm grading. There was some reminiscing in the answers about funny moments in class like when someone thought the squiggly lines in a document were redactions (à la the Epstein Files) and awesome ones when the class got someone to change their mind. 

When I write exams, I always worry if the instructions are clear. The only person who didn't get the assignment (as they say) was Big A. Huck has some troubling symptoms that could be a UTI (or something more serious). I went looking for reassurance... "It's not serious, right? It's just a UTI, right?" Big A: "Right. Or it could be bladder cancer." Facepalm. StraightLineFace. We have to collect more puppy pee for tests.

Off to the second half of the semester... summer (break) will be here in seven weeks. 

Pic: Sunset with Nu.

memoriam

Baby sis (whose birthday was in Jan) and I didn't feel we could bear to celebrate our birthdays this year. So we've put them on hold.

Starting Saturday, I'll be spending a week with United Way of Sarasota County (FL) cleaning up after Hurricane Milton as part of a college service break with students. It'll be filthy work all day and bunking at a local church shelter at night.

My mom would be slightly horrified at spending a birthday this way--she so loved luxury and soft things. 

But somehow it feels right to me. Not quite a celebration, more as a way of comemorating the gift of this body she birthed. 

In any case, it'll be different.

Pic: Mallards on the Red Cedar. Walk with AS last week.

"I trust"

Thanks to J and Big A, I started the day with a yoga practice that urged me to trust the journey.

I'm trying.

One of the things I think about a lot as my birthday approaches is how this will be the first time I'm here without her in this body she gave me.

At the pow-wow this afternoon with LB and EM, as I watched the dancers in competition completely lose themselves, it made me want to tie my bharatanatyam ankle bells on and whirl until my feelings centrifuge away. 

I love this meme by "Notorious Cree" where they play the "wrong Indian music," (i.e. my kind of Indian) but dance anyway.

Pic: One of the Ojibwe dancers today.  

lining up

Grief has been crippling lately. Meditating at the altar in the middle of the night, seeing Scout and my mom side by side, I found fresh regret for not knowing that mom was going, for not being able to say a final goodbye--the way I was able to with Scout. If I had known ahead of time, I could have flown to Bangalore. 

Past me must have decided that I needed to do more things, because my calendar has been jam-packed.

But current me had to deal with an Urgent Care trip for Big A on Tuesday (Long Covid is no joke) and an emergency vet trip for Huckleberry on Wednesday (waiting on results) and had to cancel some previously made plans.

But I still got to see Lucas Zelnick perform today and see the world premiere of Sally (based on the experience of Sally Hemmings) yesterday. 

Pic: A bunch of us at Sally; I'm nicely nestled between friends.

Dial F for flaky

It's the middle of the night so I can't text to apologize, but I just realized that I absolutely flaked on Saturday yoga with J! I didn't even remember when I texted her today about something else. 

And I somehow napped through my alarm for my video call with dad and sis. I blame the "Oscar Mule" I had at the cinema with my galentines for that. 

(We went to see Wuthering Heights, which ended very disappointingly for the literature nerds amongst us [kinda halfway though the book before Heathcliff does the more Heathcliff-y things]. I think there has been some buzz about casting a white person as Heathcliff [he's supposedly Roma/Lascar]. But also they cast an East Asian and a South Asian in leading roles and the songs were by Charli XCX [who's half Indian] so it's not malice, at least?)

Pic: Dial M for Murder with Big A at Williamston Theater yesterday. It's so tiny intimate.

playback

I know when that note sounds
and I feel touched everywhere
that anything could happen… 
anything bad

unbothered, not hiding its shape 

it is the obviously-wrapped gift
--a rock, a key, a boomerang
you already know

so I am this stranger crying until
it makes me stranger--becomes
my first experience of myself 
as only a memory

__________

A note apropos of nothing: It made me so sad to hear that James Van Der Beek who played Dawson in Dawson's Creek (a comfort watch back in the day that I started dipping back into during the pandemic) died yesterday (so young!) from colorectal cancer. I'm horrified to learn that two years of cancer treatment have left this successful celebrity actor's family needing a GoFundMe to pay for their children's education. The US healthcare system is brutal. [Also brutal, the look Big A gave me when I said Dawson had "battled cancer" because every obituary I had just read used that phrasing. I should do better.]

________________

Pic: The frozen Maple River. The temperatures look like they're going up--gloriously--so all this is going to be melt and runnels soon.

took my breath away

I had been waiting with bated breath to read the lovely Nicole's new novel Inhale Exhale and I devoured it in one long binge, barely pausing to catch my breath. It's a breath of fresh air, and I could hear Nicole's good sense, compassion, humor, and patience on every page. Nicole enjoys Catherine Newman and Katherine Heiny and this elegant and unflinching novel absolutely belongs the shelf with those greats.

Totally chuffed to see a teacher in the book with (part of) my name! (There's a "Maya" too, but then the world is full of illusion. Ha.)

Also chuffed to see the anthology I was in last year, made it to Bibliomama's 5-star reads of 2025. (I think it says so much about her kindness!)

Pic: Because all my breath-related jests weren't enough, I posed Nicole's novel with a Buddha because the protagonist, Michelle, is a yogi.

a book (+ the files)

A beautiful book, Sonya Renee Taylor's The Body is Not an Apology, for a bookclub via the college librarians. I've been trying to get students to sign up for it, but so far it's all faculty and staff. 

It's a 2018 book, so it's unaware of the 2026 avatar of horror... But she uses what she calls "The Donald" to distinguish beautifully between people who think highly of themselves and radical self love: "Even if we were to surmise that Trump and others like him are acting from an exaggerated lack of selfesteem or confidence, I think we can agree not much of their attitudes or actions feel like love." Absolutely!

Is anyone seeing the info being released from the Epstein Files? What is this horror? I have all this grief and anger about the children harmed (killed?) and how so many people who have patriarchal power in our society--presidents, billionaires, writers, gurus--seem to have been involved. And now... nothing. No accountability. No consequences. How have we not risen up to expel them? Why are clowns asking that we stop attacking pedophiles?! Why are so many university folks connected to this? Larry Summers has always been disgusting, but Noam Chomsky? Poetry prof Elisa New? 

Pic: That's supposed to the The Red Cedar, but it just looks like a a solid vastness of snow and ice. I miss when everything was brighter and warmer. Apparently, there's more coming. Do. Not. Want. Another snow storm. Another snowmageddon. I haven't even recovered from the last one. Walk with L yesterday.

Speaking up

Yes. Called my reps to share my thoughts about holding ICE accountable to court orders (they currently flout them) and asking for arrests for anyone who perjured themselves with regard to the Epstein files.

Yes. Noticed that teaching days on my projected Fall schedule looked preternaturally lengthy and would leave me with 12-hour campus days. Spoke to my chair and they're working on modifying it to something more sustainable. 

No. At a meeting (where I was the only person of color in the speaker's line of vision), they made a "joke" characterizing me as a "bad teacher." (Thoughts that flashed in my head: I love my students. I've won teaching awards. A student named the teacher character in their video game after me. Nicole gave a teacher my name in her novel. In all of the polycrisis of the last year, teaching is the thing that has sustained me, and the one ball I didn't drop. I try to be a good teacher, I wanted to say... Instead, I chuckled awkwardly.) 

Pic: It's so cold, someone put a jersey on the statue of Sparty outside the football stadium.

disjunction

It's like duh...              I do know what "dead" means             but then also... where did she go?             forever sounds like a trick              and so... does this mean          we can't talk again            (but we're always talking again)                      everything is costumed as a clue                          I follow as an amateur shaman           (also theologian astrophysicist)           with denial and love woven inside me              days keep ending; I keep finding ways          to wake them up again               it would be heaven if she were here             

                         that heaven I wouldn't mind her being in 

_____________

Pic: a gorgeous sunset on my way home... I'd never seen a column/beam/plume like that before. 

 

continuity

I did not have any big resolutions for the year.

And truly, I'm at a point where I want to move through the world with ease and empathy rather than trying to upgrade myself into some model of efficiency... 

If anything, I think I do too much and hold myself to standards only I care about.

This year, I will let myself be playful and curious rather than serious.

Pic: EM's post dinner photo of Nu reading to Max and Huck. Nu was home briefly this weekend to see Hadestown with us. They are reading from a book called Bedtime Stories for Dogs. JN had it sent to me from Thrift Books because I'd told her I was reading to Max and Huck. The book cost all of $1.29, but tells me how rich I am in friendship. 

back to life

January is gone. It was cruel. 

It was a clusterfuck. 

Or to put it more politely, in a word I learned this year, it was a polycrisis, overwhelmed by bad news and hemmed in by uncertainty. It's not surprising that I kept trying to start and restart and kept failing. It felt like some part of me already knew... But finding out from last semester's class notes that this was the week (Week 5) when I headed home for the funeral was the slow-motion gut punch on repeat I did not need. 

But I'm here, so once more into the breach, I guess. 

Adam Serwer's piece in The Atlantic, had this absolutely remarkable passage I cannot stop rereading: "The secret fear of the morally depraved is that virtue is actually common, and that they’re the ones who are alone. In Minnesota, all of the ideological cornerstones of MAGA have been proved false at once. Minnesotans, not the armed thugs of ICE and the Border Patrol, are brave. Minnesotans have shown that their community is socially cohesive—because of its diversity and not in spite of it. Minnesotans have found and loved one another in a world atomized by social media, where empty men have tried to fill their lonely soul with lies about their own inherent superiority. Minnesotans have preserved everything worthwhile about “Western civilization,” while armed brutes try to tear it down by force." SO much yes!

And Tressie McMillan Cottom says about political exhaustion that sometimes it's not retreat and rest one needs but actually action and connection. That "sometimes we're not exhausted because we're aware of too much, we are exhausted because we're doing too little." The antidote, she says is to get involved, as "people who feel agentic aren't as tired." This is something for me to remember.

Pic: Baker Woods with L. I feel like the trees are nodding their wise heads over me. 

down and then a recharge

I spent Friday night in the E.R. with Nu (so thankful they're ok now), and there was another fatal ICE shooting in Minneapolis. 

My brain is fried, my heart is sore. 

Friday's meetings got shifted online due to the weather, so I absolutely did not have driving to the E.R. at 2 am in -20 degree weather with my car barely 50% charged in my plans. I made it with 8 miles left on the battery. But I found a charger in town and recharged.

I got a heart recharge too with bestie KB too. She spent two days here and I heard about her adventures marching with her fellow Minneapolitans, we talked our hearts out, and I have plans to see her again later this week, so it's not goodbye yet. 

Pic: Timeline cleanse. Huck, Max, and K. It was Max's first time meeting K, and he was all over her. 

love so ordinary

you have to shut your eyes to see it

that's when the day goes dark
running like a scar seaming 

into something close

I stop, blind as a person in a photo

coming to the raised edge 

of spectacle to gather 

you, mother

from vast violet evenings to say

goodnight, knowing I will 

endure--or at least see

you in the morning 

___________

Pic: Squirrels on the MSU campus... honestly, they seemed monkey-sized!

some warm thoughts on a frigid day

So far this year, the kid from Chicago has visited once and the college kid has spent two weekends at home. I squeezed them every chance I got. Not only did they squeeze me back, they're prone to special things like doing my chores for me when I'm not paying attention and bringing me treats when I'm working. They're consistently the best.

It's painful doing video calls with my dad and sis... because from my side of things, my mom's absence is so plain. It's difficult also because my mom was the chatty one on that side, the one with whom I shared books and shows, and now it's just the three of us being sad. 

My mom was so very chatty. I always laugh when I think of that one time At was on a phone call with my mom (maybe when At was 9/10 years old). At had been silent on the call for a while, so I whispered encouragement to say something, and At shot back, "I'm still waiting for Ammama to stop talking." Haha. Good times. 
______________________
Pic: A glimpse of The Maple River. Cold. It's going to stay in the single digits all week.

if meaning is made of anything

the air feels full of fussy messages 

from the future

every black pebble I gather whispers

reminders for later 

how easily your attention slips away

--a dancer in the crowd

multiplying me with mute mystery 

until I exist

for you might say the book is complete 

but I have a feeling 

I'll still imagine there are places inside 

where I can color it

____________

Pic: Max and Huck ready at the treat jar. We used to try to get them to ring the bell for service, but that didn't take.

a good reason to cry

Grief has a calendar. People have been telling me that it'll take a year at a minimum. And that other things like crying daily will change. I did not believe this to be possible, but it happened--I no longer cry every day. Even my weird nausea has mostly abated without medical assistance. I'm now in a new phase where it is "How have you been?" from someone I haven't seen in a while that makes me cry--because the last time I saw them, things were likely very different.

But this past week, I had a very good reason to cry. A non-binary elementary school music teacher was recently hired in the small rural school district to the north of us. Things were going well until there was the usual hate and outrage about kids needing to learn "non traditional pronouns" etc. At the public hearing, as a student relayed it, all this was shared in detail by two very vocal people. And then... over 70 teachers, students, parents, members of the community spoke up in support of the teacher. The school supervisor had always been supportive, but the Board could see in real time how much the community did not want to give in to hate. Here's something of a live report. I'm glad to have a "good" reason to cry.

Pic: Another amaryllis blooming: this is one I bought myself a couple of years ago from the $3 discount bin.