a morning manifesto

(story)

Every morning, with 

exactly seven squeezes 

of lemon in my tea

I feel like every child 

who has ever dreamed 

of being free

(start)

and although the future 

turns out differently 

than it used to be 

everything is still birthed 

and broken, cracked 

open--I still believe 

(stutter) 

I... still try... for love

--here on the ground 

we... could be... become 

a surround... a vast tent... 

a tenderness for children as they 

throw their arms to the sky

_____________________________

Pic: The Red Cedar from the woods behind L's house. It's funny how things get into our heads. I've always liked pictures of the water, but as I was taking this photo, I could hear Engie saying somewhere how she always wants to photograph reflections.

Wild and Precious Life: every day magic

My goodness! First, a (too) generous mention from Nicole... thank you, Nicole! And then this confectioners'-sugar dusting of snow over the day. (Not enough to make me feel like I should shovel or cause any road accidents, but perfect for creating christmassy magic.)

It was too drippy to walk outside so I walked in the mall. And let the record show I spent no money at all. (I did preorder copies of my friend Jan Shoemaker's new book, Slow Learner, at the bookstore, but I'll have to pay only at pickup, so technically I didn't spend today.) And then! I saw JS herself just walking along merrily and got a hug and an update on the wedding she had to attend on Saturday instead of (hmmpf) coming to my cookies and cocktails party. (It was a "dry" wedding she said, making a moue.) A few minutes later, as I was thinking the last time I was at the mall was when we were shopping for JL's mom's birthday...I saw JL! I bet pre-cellphone, 90's teens felt a bit like this when they saw their friends at the mall too.

Pic: Stopping to pick up the mail...

up and down and around

Yesterday's party is put away. And I vacuumed and dusted and cleaned the entire house. Do other people also clean the house after entertaining?  We used to have cleaners--sometimes twice a week--before we moved here. We're in a bigger house now but I'm the main cleaner. I feel we're going a bit in reverse here. 

Big A has been in Milwaukee for work for the past three days. I couldn't wait for him to get home... and then we promptly squabbled within the first half hour after he did. (All good now. I thought he was egging on Huck and Max who were playing fighting. I probably went too far when I brought up Michael Vick.)

Otherwise, a slow and quiet day. The all-day misty drizzle inspired me to make a big pot of soup. I'm so chuffed that Nu (the baking enthusiast extraordinaire) likes my cranberry-pistachio shortbread! I took a a long walk with L, a long soak by myself, and have all the cookies I can handle for dessert. 

Pic: These koi at the Radiology Gardens aren't coy. Haha.

it's two o' clock somewhere

Like maybe two or three days ago, I wanted to see my girlfriends and give them their presents and my MIL had sent over a huge box of cookies, so I invited people over for an afternoon of "cookies and cocktails" because I thought that sounded quirky. Since the plan was to start at 2:00, most people could come despite the short notice. 

I cut several sprigs of holly from our overgrown bush in the backyard to slip into little planters and felt very festive. And then it felt a bit naughty (in the nicest way) to add rum to our punch or Bailey's to our cocoa so early in the day.

We played a holiday version of Two Truths and a Lie (or Two Truths and No Lies or just Two Lies--my people don't believe in rules) so people who didn't know each other too well could laugh and commiserate with each other. I like when friends I made in different times and places get to know each other and become friends themselves.

I'm really proud of my cranberry-pistachio shortbread (I added dried rose petals) and the pretty ice ring (to keep the punch cold--I didn't have a "ring mold" so I used a bundt pan). Bonus: Planning and pulling everything off took up so much of my brain space that I didn't have time to worry about stuff. I keep telling myself that celebrations are good, that we should all be celebrating, and we should celebrate for those who are unable to. 

It felt good to celebrate and be with the wonderful women who have all done me so much kindness and supported me in so many ways through the years. They are life-sustaining in a quite literal sense for me.

The only thing is everyone brought cookies too, and although I sent people home with treat bags, we still have more than we started with. 

Pic: A shot Nu took when they snuck in to help themselves to more cookies. I can see my ice ring in the foreground (in my soup bowl pressed into service as a punch bowl), and me in the background (talking with my arms).

sentimental offerings

Another festival of lights at CB's "Winter Warm Up Party." It was beautiful--my neighbors J and E from across the street sang the blessing (I'm more used to reciting it) as we lit the menorahs (I did two). 

Big A's in Milwaukee until Sunday, so I took Nu with me. As always, they protested having to go and as we walked home, raved about how glad they were that they went and how much they love "community." I guess I do know best after all. Ha.

I am a sentimental mess just from reading Nicole's account of The Small One (Q: Is this the first time I've cried at a Wikipedia entry? Ans: No.). I love its theme of offering up devotion in whatever small way one can. "Little Drummer Boy" is another great example of this. And now I'm thinking of "Le Jongleur de Notre-Dame" that I first encountered in Anatole France's version in my French textbook. And now I'm thinking of how much my mom loved that story when I shared it with her, and how she connected it to the story of Kannappa who did all the taboo things (offered meat, spat water, put his feet etc. on the deity) out of love and devotion. And this in turn reminds me of a scene in a Tamil movie whose plot and title I've forgotten in which the Hindu heroine who is in love with a Christian boy goes to church to pray for him. But she doesn't know any Christian prayers, so she recites the entirety of an 8th century hymn-paean written for Durga in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary. It's a moment my mom and I found both funny and sweet. It's a hymn my mom and I love. And now I miss my mom.

Pic: A forest of candles at CB's "Winter Warm Up Party."
 

apostrophe

I know I can retell the stories 
until I get them right... 

            I may never get them right

            don't be afraid, maya

it's just... the sky is falling
my body is failing 

            there's room right about here 

            for a quiet chorus 

but I hear only stalled words

vowels leave, aiyo aiyo 

            like an ocean finding freedom

            deep inside me

and though disaster is far away

I'm right here, waiting 

____________ 

Pic: I got some mall-style Winter Wonderland when I dropped off some stuff at the Fretail Store. (I'm so happy this store, which gives people the experience of shopping while giving away things for free, exists in Lansing.) Today was also a day I had to pick up Huck and Max from the groomers and then turn around to take Nu and myself to the dentist. This is what happens when I press pause on all non essential appointments in the final weeks of class. I guess I was tired; I fell asleep while the dentist and hygienist were still peering into my mouth.

it's beginning to look

a lot like a bit like Christmas. CF, my dear friend who moved to South Carolina sent us a beautiful Christmas centerpiece, JG sent us treats from Sunnyland Farms, AK sent a blooming amaryllis, SV made a donation in memory of Scout. It seems my girlfriends are into sending things that are more like experiences, and I love it.

Counterbalance: My uncle told me that there had been a fire in my sister's office building in Bangalore. My sis then sent me a video of the 20-story fire. Scary. A student whose poetry I love received a rejection. Sad. One thinks we'd be able to protect the people we care about from harm or disappointment, but we're so limited.

Pic: CF's centerpiece--I lit the candles to send her a thank you photo. Bonus peek of Nu snacking in the kitchen.

life or something like that

I wonder if there's an alternate 
autobiography somewhere
just a shift of a world away

                          in a "nice" arranged marriage
                          where my words have wars 
                          locked into them 

or one with so many or no kids 
I am--again--lost amongst

lives falling fast as rain

                           perhaps I grow angry like stars 

                           beginning to dim at dawn

                           all heavy and alone 

today (at least) all the alternatives 

seem wrong, basic, way less than

reality's own beloved mess

___________

Pic: Huck, Big A, and big baby Max. Behind them the clutter of life--mail, walking leashes, dart board, magazines. On the magazine rack, I can see my face peeking from the top rack from when I won that teaching award earlier this year!

sunrise-sunset

Graded like a maniac. Shepherded students through their first conference submissions process. Worked on getting all the grad school recommendations out. And I have just one more review letter to complete... I'll have three more due in January, but I'm not going to worry about that now. 

After all the service-y stuff, I really hope I can get back to writing and editing on my own project this week. It's time. And also--more importantly perhaps--there's a deadline.

Pic: The sky above me near sunset (beautiful). Max and Huck alongside me going about their potty business (not so beautiful). We don't have many windows on the west side of the house, so if I'm not outside, I'm likely to miss the sunset. I'm so grateful to Max and Huck for this sunset and everything else too.

DND

After krampus-ing hard yesterday, JN declared this a DND (do nothing day). I guess it works as a "Do Not Disturb day" as well. I love it. I'm going to use it. Someday.

Final grades are due soon, so it wasn't really an option to do absolutely nothing. But I built lots of nice stuff into the day--I got a massage, I went on a ramble with L, a long walk with Big A, then family dinner with At.

It was DND lite.

Pic: Goodbye from the puppet theater. My parents gave the kids this puppet theater when they were little--I think Nu was less than two years old. It showed up to lots of birthday celebrations and we accumulated quite a collection of hand puppets and finger puppets all put to great use by the "narrOator" (At's version of "narrator" 🙂💗). It lived in the rumpus room for a long time and then in Nu's Room for years. But for a year now, it's been hanging out in the upstairs hallway because no one wants it. I've known it should go to another house where some other kids can love it, but it was a bit difficult letting go as it bears so many memories of the younger versions of my kids, my parents, me... 

Anyway, when At came to dinner this evening, I got a few last pictures of them together at the puppet theater. I'm lucky my kids are so indulgent.

skin, hair, fur

Every night before he leaves for work, Big A has taken to reminding me to let go my feelings of overhwhelm and weltschmerz and focus on the things I can control. In the last two months, I've been staying up later and later... doomscrolling and breaking out in hives and acne and literally pulling my hair out (trichotillomania).  

Skin: So this week, I finally got to see a dermatologist who put me on tretinoin cream. Let the record show that I asked Big A to write me a prescription for tretinoin a month ago and he recoiled and refused as though I had asked for opioids or something and made me wait.

Hair: For my very gross and unattractive habit of self-induced hair loss, I ordered an OTC nutritive supplement.

Fur: Months ago, JN decided to be a Krampus for Krampus Nacht and asked if I would be their handler. It was still a bit of a surprise to see "Maya: Krampus Handler" on the organizing committee's list of duties. I didn't want to leave home this evening, but also didn't want to stand JN up, so I did go. It was small "f" fun.

Pic: A crowd of Krampuses in Old Town. I was so out of it, I wasn't in the least bit scared. 

"praying for peace/living with love"

The world is so beautiful and the world is so terrifying. Over 17,000 people have been killed by bombs and gunfire in the past eight weeks... It's so strange how I still go about as if everything is ok... Although my country vetoed a humanitarian ceasefire yet again. 

I think of the children holding a press conference in English--a language foreign to them--to beg the world not to bomb them. And yet, over 7000 Gazan children have been killed in just these two months; many thousands more are maimed and injured for life. I think in particular about the mother holding her lifeless baby saying she took 580 IVF injections to have him; the tender searchers in the rubble after every airstrike. I think of how many hospitals, schools, and homes have been bombed, the patients, medical staff, students, teachers, and families in them evanesced. No poem can contain my grief. Nothing can calm my disbelief that this is happening so publicly... so blatantly.

Sunny Singh, who has always been so kind to me and my students lost a friend today--he was a fellow teacher of English and a poet. His name was Refaat al-Aareer. In a better world I might have met him some day at a reading or a conference or in someone's home. And he is just one of thousands who is gone suddenly and too soon with their hopes and dreams still pending. This is a poem he wrote last week:

If I must die

you must live to tell my story

to sell my things

to buy a piece of cloth

and some strings,

(make it white with a long tail)

so that a child,

somewhere in Gaza

while looking heaven

in the eye awaiting his

dad who left in a blaze-

and bid no one farewell

not even to his flesh not even to himself-

sees the kite,

my kite you made,

flying up above

and thinks for a moment an angel is there bringing back love

If I must die

let it bring hope

let it be a tale

_______________

Pic: Baker Woods with RS yesterday. She asked me if it would look bad if she celebrated Hanukkah with all that is going on. I told her we'd be lighting lamps with Nu (Big A's great grandparents were Jewish and there is a family menorah/hanukkiah). I'm glad we have celebrations. I want us to put away our bombs and celebrate life. (I saw the words I used for the title of this post on a church's marquee this morning on my way to work.)

"in a hole in the ground..."

I'm so, so, SO excited. 

Whether it's because I'm a water sign or because I grew up in a city with one of the longest shorelines in the world, I've always loved water. (And this despite being a bad swimmer.) I like looking at water most of all, and I think sunlight on water is the most magical thing ever. 

So I've always gravitated to homes near water, and when we lived on the Pine River in our previous home, it was the happiest I've ever been--with the view (not the rising cost of the home insurance for that place). I was glad our current house has a tiny pond, but I've been wanting to enlarge it forever. And this week, we finally did! 

We dug in a not-straight line and around existing trees and shrubs, and it turned out a bit... crescent shaped? heart shaped? 

Pic: Our tiny pond in the foreground, and the "hole in the ground" (Big A) we've dug. Now to line it, fill it, and enjoy it.

another love poem

my class is united by laughter
until we look alike 

                            it digs a hole in the day where 

                            our anxiety disappears

as if sifting through our souls

for the answer

                            and finding only half words

                            and silly dreams

freed us forever/for a moment

(or so it seemed)

______

Pic: First-year-seminar poster exhibition. The moment I'm thinking of was in another class, but the picture I took there has too many recognizable faces, and I haven't asked for permission to post it. I'm glad the semester is almost over... but I will miss the camaraderie and intellectual tussle of the classroom. Sending extra love out into the universe for the young ones and the little ones today.