A beast and some beauty

It was a beast of a day. The college board has decided that with declining numbers they'll need to cut 33 full-time positions to stay fiscally viable. The sense of panic and grief was constant at today's faculty meeting today and at most of the meetings leading into it. Tears, gallows humor, anger... I saw it all. 

On top of the lowgrade panic of the election, this job uncertainty feels almost unbearable. The plan is to announce the cuts by December 15th, which is apparently the deadline the AAUP suggests so people can begin to look for jobs for the next academic year. (But also, with the state of higher ed, what jobs?) 

The two bright spots at work were completing some more paperwork for the prison class (I always procrastinate on paperwork) and a mood-uplifting meeting with my student, faculty, and staff sisters on the Women's Board.

At home, it was Nu's actual birthday, and they seem kind of lit up from within. Heart eyes. 

Pic: The evening sky on my way home from work. The wind turbines and the cornfields make this so innately mid-Michgan. (I cropped out most of the car--I know, I know, I shouldn't be taking pictures--it was just so pretty though.)

coming back around

Friends and family in the path of Hurricane Milton are beginning to "mark" themselves safe; I hope that continues. For right now, it feels lovely to be back home where everything is normal and human-sized (as opposed to thousands of feet tall or deep à la Arches and Canyonlands). 

And on my first full day back, these four beautiful encounters felt like blessings.

1) When I went to pick up the holy basil (Tulsi) plant from the people selling it, they turned out to be a South Indian mother-daughter pair who were so, so nice. The daughter was relocating to the U.K. and when I told them that I had done my doctorate in the U.K., she turned out to be an Oxford Alumna too. At that point, they--naturally--invited me to come in and have "coffee and tiffin." 

2) Although it was mostly an intro to their online tech and learning platform (Moodle), there was a sense of solidarity at the Zoom meeting for the volunteer Gaza instructors. (The initiative is led by Lille University in France and hosted by AnNajah University in Palestine.) I gulped when the admin said it would be good to record lectures because students may not have internet access or electricity at class meeting times. Most of the other instructors were men, so when I spotted someone who appeared to be a woman, I Facebook-friended them like it was 2006. Then KK and I had a heartfelt exchange about why we were doing this and swore comradeship. 

3) Finally, and for no reason I can think of, my masseuse AM decided to gift me today's massage. First I demurred, then I refused outright... but she shut me down by saying she knew I would respect her decision. This feels too, too much--massaging is strenuous work and a whole hour out of her workday is too generous. When I asked her, she merely smiled and said, "What goes around comes around." Which is inscrutable but fair, I guess. But she doesn't know much about me and I really haven't ever done anything special for her. (Although I clearly need to now. Ideas welcome.)

4) Pic: It's late in the year, but I think this is a fritillary? They were just soaking up the sunshine and doing that thing where they open and close their wings--as though in pure pleasure. I kind of felt like that myself at odd moments during the day. 

goodbyes and good buys

This has already been a longer trip than our usual getaways, and I'm glad to head home, but I'm also sad to say goodbye. I would never choose to live in this rocky, arid place that is astoundingly beautiful and we have no plans to return in the foreseeable future as we have no family here and there are so many more National Parks to explore. So this is a proper goodbye for now. 

Things that have been absolute lifesavers on this trip--sunhats, sunscreen, snacks, and a backpack hydropack (like Camelback). I may have to make an exception to my no-buy rule because I saw someone in the airport restroom who had a tote they were carrying like a backpack (it had both tote and backpack handles). And now I really want one! I've been a carry-on-only traveler forever, and I think I'd look more grown up with a tote instead of a backpack!

Also: I was embarrassingly in "little lady" mode on this trip. I'm usually an equal partner, but I was extra dependent on this trip what with my busted-up splinted finger and being unable to deal with lifting my own suitcase, not wanting to drive that beast of an SUV, and my freakout (freakouts? I'll never tell!) about falling. I hope this changes back soon.

Pic: Goodbye Colorado River! #LaterPost 10/10

more than words... or pictures

The vastness of Canyonlands is immense--I'm still not sure I get it. To me, Arches seemed full of towering bluffs. Canyonlands seemed like vistas of canyons set out thousands of feet below us (Grand View Point has an elevation of 6000 ft.) and then on that level, there are further canyons going down hundreds or thousands of feet more (or that's what it looked like from our distant viewpoint). 

Canyonlands National Park is 527 square miles so it can take an hour or double that depending on where one wants to enter. We went with the closer entry point, Island in the Sun, which is also where the visitor center is so we could get the kids their socks and our National Parks Passport stamped. 

We did three hikes today: Murphy Overlook, Murphy Point, and the hike around the rim from Grand View Point. The heights are dizzying. And it was a nice literal reminder not to gaze too deep into the abyss. As we walked, I clarified my limitations about hiking around heights. If I can trip full length and then pick myself up and carry on, I'm fine with it; I draw the line at hiking on paths where a trip and fall might mean I fall off the cliff. That's reasonable, right? The geological scale of the depths at Canyonlands was somehow particularly terrifying--it was as though one would be falling down aeons and eras. 

Pic: We took a few "ussies" with this view, but our heads were getting in the way of all this awesomeness. #LaterPost 10/10

it's... a lot

We did so much at Arches today: Devil's Garden, Landscape Arch, Double Arch, Windows (North, South, the Turret), Pine Tree Arch, Sand Dune Arch, Eden Point. Double Arch was unexpectedly mindblowing for such a simple walk. There are reportedly 2000 arches, and we've barely seen 10%.  

While at Panorama* Point, we decided to return to the park at night to see the night skies without light pollution. I wondered if we should ask a park ranger when the right time to come see the stars would be and Big A said he knew when... "after dark." Har Har. 

So we came back after dark... and goodness--I've never seen stars like that. They were so numerous, I couldn't even make out constellations--it was like I was looking at galaxies layered over each other. We just lay on the cold concrete benches in the lookout area looking up at the sky, holding hands, and marveling in sighs and silence and occasional exclamations. 

Pic: A and me under the soar of Landscape Arch. 

*Let me note that I always have to say this word in my head before I say it out loud. My mom's name is "Manorama" so I'm prone to mispronouncing "Panorama" to rhyme with mom's name. #LaterPost 10/9.

delicate like silly goose

Our hotel is right on a bend of the Colorado River, and it’s such a treat to see the water from our windows. I started the day with some leisurely yoga. We got breakfast in Moab and gifts for the kids (it’s always socks/tees plus a stuffie for Nu and a snowglobe for At as they have collections from their toddler travel days + treats for Scout/Huck/Max if there’s something special).

Then it was time to head for our reserved timed entry at Arches, and we did two amazing hikes: Delicate Arch and Park Avenue.

Delicate Arch is of course the iconic arch that is on everything from merchandising to UT license plates. Most of the way there, I was a monkey chattering away and scampering up the arid landscape and bald rock. But then I had a bit of a panic attack at the end of the hike as I clambered onto the crest and felt the winds buffeting me. I’d have to walk down to the arch, which is perched on the lip of a hollow, and I started imagining myself tripping or being blown hundreds of feet into the depths of the hollow. (I mean, the plaque did say people die on this hike every year—and it didn’t specify how.) And then someone's water bottle slipped from their grasp and fell into the hollow and I could see what a fall might look like in sickening detail. 

But... I really wanted to stand under the arch. Big A was fine with not standing under the arch if I didn't want to but was ready to help me get there if I wanted to do that (He really is a perfect hiking partner!). After a few minutes of sitting on the warm rock, I took courage from all the other people doing it, and we made it... very slowly (and probably comically). 

Pic: Big A and me under Delicate Arch. LOL at me clutching Big A in fear and leaning into him. I did warn the kind stranger who took this photo that I was going to be very slow getting into position. I like to think I'm delicate like a bomb, not a flower--but this time I was just a silly goose. #LaterPost 10/9.

Mars-scape

We took off early in the morning for a long day of travel. Two stops in Colorado (Denver, Grand Junction), and then we picked up a rental car to drive into Utah.

I started ooh-ing and aah-ing from the plane because the landscapes were so wild, rocky, and red—it was a bit like being on Mars.

(We found out early that the rental car we’d been “upgraded” was a big PITA—it was cool to climb into it via a running board the first time. But after that, every time I got into it, I felt a bit dirty—like I was going out to colonize some part of the world. It was way too big for just us and our backpacks and ALSO really difficult to find parking for it or to back out of parking for that matter. I immediately ceded all responsibility for driving to Big A for the rest of the trip.)

Our hotel suite was practically at the entry to Arches, so we took a quick trip through the park; I took hundreds of pictures and not even one came close to representing the breathtaking beauty and scale of what was before my eyes. We found some (Boss Day) dinner at the food truck court and then watched Will and Harper. We were tired and fell asleep at different times during this sweet documentary and had to fill each other in the next day as we hiked. Maybe we’ll watch it with the kids sometime? Half the movies on our family list of rewatches feature Will Ferrell, who AFAIK, is an international treasure. 

Pic: One of the many massive red cliffs inside Arches National Park. One of the hundreds of pix I took. #LaterPost 10/9.

a reflective break

We're on Fall Break, and I'll be back around Tuesday.

Pic: The Red Cedar from the walking bridge. Doesn't the sky seem bluer in the water?

 

the making of things

"What is it like to eat an idea or its suggestion?"

It is the end of September     I feel the emptiness of the memories I forgot    but it's hardly a war     the heat is merely that of a kitchen    and I am fifteen and waiting   to transform ingredients into happiness     to make meaning with sweet triumph    I imagine my throne made with spoonsful of sugar   mean to spin jalebis airy as as asemic wishes     instead what I've made   clings to me like tears    my dad tells me    it's wonderful, it's wonderful     it really is wonderful, he says     but jalebis are proud as royal signatures      and what I have in the pan are droppings of batter     dad's hand lifts my chin   his other hand sketches in the air   name your dish after you make it, he tells me    he peers at the pan again    don't you see?    what you've made are the best "jalebi balls" I've ever seen    this is truly the best cooking advice        I will ever be given    to say what a thing is after it is done   the best writing advice        the best advice really

_________

Note: The quote is from RPT MC-60 00.27 8 by Tan Lin a poem about Wiley Dufresne's restaurant WD-50. We ate there once maybe 20 years ago? It seemed like a very New York thing to do at the time. (We used to go to fancy restaurants for lunch because the menu tends to be less expensive at lunch than at dinner.)

Pic: Across the fence, our neighbor's woods. 

painfully random

Yesterday at the baby shower (which I keep thinking of as the "party" for some reason and which it kind of turned into, I guess) a Cage The Elephant song started playing on the speakers and it really took me back to their high-energy concert... wait... was that just earlier THIS MONTH?! 

Quick check--and yes, it was on the 10th. Anyway, I didn't do much today except water all my plants, clean, and make dinner. But by the end of lugging the vacuum around two floors, I noticed my ring finger seemed a bit stiff. It was still hurting at dinner, so Big A took a look.

He thought I should take my wedding ring off before it swelled up anymore. So I did. And it feels odd to be without it. I don't wear an engagement ring, and I don't take my wedding band off at work, at night, etc. (Neither does Big A, actually.) Or it would feel odd if my finger didn't hurt so much. I have no idea what might be going on. Am I allergic to vacuuming, maybe? Too old to vacuum?

Pic: Big A and me at the Cage the Elephant concert, glassily waiting for the auditorium to fill. We got there way too early and were stuck watching a country opening act whose name I've since forgotten. Except Big A called them "Winona Sugarbush" and that I do remember.

Welcoming a little bean!

The baby shower today was woodland-themed, so it was supposed to be outside in our unkempt backyard, but despite my most frantic monitoring of the weather app, the forecast continued to call for rain, so I had to move the party indoors. 

Ah well. At least I didn't have to clean (our indoors tends to be fairly tidy), or set up outdoor tables, and could possibly get away with fewer decorations since the space was smaller (I guess I am a bit Pollyanna-ish sometimes). 

It went well. I'm so honored that I get to be part of the Ls's chosen family and do this for them and I just can't wait to meet their little bean!

While we were playing "Mommy or Daddy?" (the game where you guess which parent would change more diapers, take more photos etc. ) Big A and I did a quick retrospective check on our own days as young parents. We agreed on everything. (We're so weird.) We saved a few of the game forms for the next family dinner night to see if the kids can guess right.

Pic: Huck explores under the table as guests arrive. The fruit salad nestled in the watermelon pram with the pineapple wheels (made by the dad-to-be) was my favorite thing!

Five Things I Heard

1) We've been asked not to discuss the prison education program on social media, so going forward, I'll have to stay mum. I'll just leave this quote from a student in the program, "This is the free-est I have felt in 24 years." I haven't stopped thinking about this.

2) Drove past Nu at the school bus stop and was gobsmacked to hear them yell out: "Bye, Mama! Love you!" even though other kids were around. I mean... At never grew out of saying stuff like that out loud in public, but I thought Nu had! I'm so, so glad they've boomeranged on this!

3) At the Refugee Development Center Fundraiser this morning, I heard the Southside Community Kitchen Pastor say, "We have to help people. And we have to help even the people we don't like." I should always remember this.

4) I heard back on my manuscript submission from the editor (lots of good feedback). And then the publisher wrote back supportively, "This is a very, very important book!" I hope it all works out? Fingers crossed.

5) Listening to friends bickering over undecided voters: "Voting third party is a sign of privilege." "Actually, motherfucker, voting for genocide because it doesn't directly affect you is a sign of privilege." I don't know where to start with this.

Pic: Another beautiful sky on the way to work. The trees on the side look like hills... it reminded me of the psalm that goes, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." I could use help.

what I should have said

I wrote to you a few years later
with congratulations on your 
powerful wounds

for your fate dressed as normalcy

for your pomp shrill and shiny

as new change 

you thank me for my ceremony
my choreography of care
in these small wars

that can bring only small victories

no, not even that--they bring 

only small feelings--

where lightness and excess play

with echoes from excuses

and fill with waiting 

_______________________________

Pic: I've consistently been late (only by a couple of minutes, but still!) to my Thursday-before-class-walk-meetings with KPB this semester, so my sole goal this morning was to be at our meeting point before she arrived. And I did it! It was such a gorgeous day... I will miss these bright blue skies when it's winter in Michigan. We're getting geared up for homecoming this weekend on campus.

at five in the evening

and under a dulled sky 

grows a grave privilege

I'm  sorry for my grief--

it is a wound I worry 

but also such a wonder

a life made from memory

here's the real, and there

the merely remembered

you  tell  me which

it  is...  I'll  confess 

I  mix  and  mistake

them all the time--even

 dream that some evening 

soon  it  will be spring 

and I will be kneeling

down singing and you 

will be close to me (even 

if you don't like my song)

__________

Pic: A bluejay in the front yard. 

Also: And this is freaky--at the end of that week where I had that dream which I worried meant something about my father's time on earth, I got word that my father's older brother passed away. My sister is attending his funeral tomorrow as our family's representative. My sis really does more than her fair share of family stuff because she's awesome. (Plus she's right there.) I have to say though that I felt a pang when I saw the cute invitations that had been sent out for the pooja my mom and sis just hosted--the shortened versions of their names even rhyme ("Manu and Anu")!

home stuff and homecoming

There's still a bit of summer lingering in the possibility of peaches for a snack, in the lure of the hammock in the afternoons, and yet the mornings are delicious in their cool and misty promise of fall. 

I will have a ton of essays turned in this weekend and need to turn to grading mode soon, so I did all the household stuff today-- watering my zillion plants and cleaning all three floors. I also did the laundry that had accumulated for over 6-8 weeks. I have decades of clothes in my closet but I know my clothes will continue to last me longer if they get cleaned and put away. (I'm trying to talk myself into doing it. I don't like doing laundry although I try to entice myself by scenting everything with lavender essential oil and watching old shows as I fold and put everything away.) Also, and this is new for me, I hand-sawed a pile of kindling to use in the firepit come fall. 

Pic: Nu headed out to homecoming--they spent a lot of time putting their outfit together and I love the detail down to the socks. I have to say, Nu is the cheapest thriftiest teen I know. I remember having to rush to department stores every time At went to an HS social. Nu did not want to shop for the event and sourced everything from their closet and At's old closet. At was homecoming royalty, so Nu had some good material to swipe.

"May Peace Prevail on Earth"

Today, the Greater Lansing United Nations Association (GLUNA) planted a Peace Pole on the MSU campus. I'd been invited to speak as one of the 12 language representatives (repping Hindi), so I moved my standing Friday appointments and showed up.

It was a beautiful day, and the pole was unveiled by GLUNA's youngest member and its oldest (coincidentally, it was their 101st birthday today!). 

The earnestness of it all--the young people embarking on a life devoted to peace, the old people so committed to peace... the people ranged in their hijabs and taqiyahs and kippahs and dashiki and kente and Anishinaabe regalia (I carried my mom's Kashmiri shawl) were so moving. People are amazing and beautiful. We are all miracles. We all deserve peace. 

After I spoke, I was in tears. I stepped offstage to find CD (A book club friend who was there) so she could fold me in a hug. 

Pic: There should be an official press release (with me in it too) out sometime (I know my mom is waiting to see it). But this is a cropped image from a hurried photo I took. The specks at the top are leaves falling like confetti. 

in the leaving and the love

I wrote this as a talisman 
to protect my kids
a sort of post-it 
for peace

                            for times parents become 

                            casual as strangers
                            people you meet
                            in the street
if the kids are looking
they should pick up 
how the past is 
in pieces

                      knowing it's better to love 
                      where you happen to be

                       until you again find
                       in me your home

____________

Pic: A full morning moon nestled between the clouds and chemtrails on my way to work this morning. By the time I got out of work this evening, the moon was back in the sky. I barely saw the fam today!

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

At around 3 this morning, I looked out of the window and there was an absolutely beautiful moon... I asked Big A if he'd go on a walk with me, he said sure, so we headed downstairs, Max and Huckie joined us, and then we all walked around in the moonlight for a while... It was calm and sublime and somehow something I needed.

(Written out like that it sounds a bit odd. I often wonder if Big A and I are perfect for each other or atrocious for each other... we so rarely try to talk each other out of our (no doubt sometimes bad) ideas... we're really like some dumb Pisces-Scorpio astrology writeup come to life.)

In other news, my application to teach an eight-week online course for students in Gaza has been accepted! Also: our idealistic (and now, sadly, outgoing) college president has started up a prison education initiative, and I'll get a chance to teach in a local prison again (I did something like this long ago in grad school). I am so happy to be participating in both of these programs. I mean, I wish there wasn't an ongoing epistemicide in Gaza and that we didn't have a carceral state stateside, but those things are happening anyway, and now I get to help out in a role I love.

Pic: I learned how to stop my phone from using its automatic flash, and got an okay picture of the moon! I learned today is a supermoon... 

building a mystery

1) It's no mystery that I love Jennifer Finney Boylan, I've basically fangirled since I met her in 2011. I don't know though, why I waited so long to read her collab with Jodi Picoult--Mad Honey. For the last couple of days I've been waiting to finish all my million persnickety multiplying duties so I could sit down with my book. Just finished it today, and there were so many parts that brought me to tears and so many twists I didn't see coming and so many parts I just had to reread. It was so good. 

2) I was in a mad panic yesterday because I had written up a paper proposal about the Jhumpa Lahiri collection, Roman Stories, but couldn't find it in my email or the Google doc I'd been working on with some colleagues on another proposal. I finally found the huffy title I'd used ("Tell Me Where it Hurts: Ailment and Alienation in Jhumpa Lahiri’s Roman Stories"), by using Google History, and after over an hour of searching every doc I had opened in March, I finally found the notes I made. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

3) I got brave today and went looking for the snake I saw three weeks ago. I wore long boots, made a lot of noise, and was on high alert. But Mx. Slithers seems to have disappeared just as mysteriously as they appeared. I'd read that snakes don't like strong smells, so I took some old packets of curry powder and scattered them in that part of the garden, hoping to scare them away forever.

4) Pic: Huck, Max, Big A, and I out on our post-dinner walk... It's a mystery why our fluffy doodles think they can take on our neighbor's muscular German Shepherd, but they always do their version of trash talk as we pass. 

no stranger world

what if the the days 
called us to 
                                            speak to the strangers 
                                            seek them out
they who have much 
to share of the dark and day 
                                            whose names are conversations
                                             whose hellos are history 
when the voiceover

of memory 

                                            is the scream of a dark dagger 
                                            but sometimes lilts to tomorrow 
saying me saying me
saving me saving me
                                            for it may be as hard to get into a world 
                                            as it is to get out of it 
I too was a stranger once 
how strange that was                                
                                              let it be
                                              let me be

______

Pic: In the woods out front in the evening light. I've been thinking a lot about the way refugees are being described in this moment--partly because we used to live in Yellow Springs (Big A's old hometown), which is close to Springfield, OH... in fact, Big A was born in a Springfield hospital! Also, Haiti itself is both inspiring as the first country to win independence from slavery, but tragic for the way France has tethered it to poverty in retaliation. And I love the stoics and more recently, Martha Nussbaum's interpretation of cosmopolitanism as "bringing the stranger in." I would find it wonderful to live in a world where there were no "strangers."