things are still up

Our Christmas tree is still twinkling away, our menorah still has stubs of candles from the last day (birthday candles... we ran out), our porch decorations are still up, my snow globes are still out, my little nativity set (catholic school holdover) is still on the altar, the holiday card holder is full, and there are too many cookies for even Nu to finish. I'll be putting away most of this stuff before the start of the new year (except the holiday cards, I like seeing everyone's happy faces and hang on to the cards until it's Spring at least). My spirit is still up too.

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I love birds and elephants, and I'm so touched when new friends notice and make note. At Diwali KM gave me one of those Phil Walters' bird silhouettes that you stick into a tree and last week AS sent me a set of "Guide Birds." I'd seen it in a catalogue and liked it a lot, but couldn't justify buying it for myself. As a gift, it's so perfect in every way. Each of the seven birds "corresponds to an inspirational word, such as joy, courage, and generosity" and I look forward to meditatively picking one every day when I light the evening deepam.

Pic: On my overcrowded altar, guide birds shelter under an elephant lamp.

shelter

trees seem to really

need each other
waves too ...

even stones primordial

and lonely need

other stones 

for blessed are the homes

and families made of

what we have 

we could ask: why we are

inventing new

differences

as our world falls apart 

as our words break

and separate  

misplacing m-o-t-h-e-r-s 

into emptily echoing 

o-t-h-e-r-s

_____________

Pic: A shelter made of branches we saw on the Pinckney Potawatomi Trail on Sunday. I wonder if they are live branches that will green in the Spring. I can't wait for Spring... we've now had several of these soggy, grey days that L calls "dome days," because it feels like a grey dome has been placed over us. We had to hurry back to the trailhead on Sunday because daylight was fading fast and as it turned out, there was no sunset--just a fading into darkness. We were glad to make it back to the trailhead before we had to use our headlamps. The nice part was seeing all the light displays in Pinckney as we drove home. 

finding a center

                    I learn my lessons 

                    from trees who

pull me into the world

all leap and vigor

                    to fall into sudden

                    serene returns

in cushioned shadows

hard as thunder 

                    under vanished arches 

                    grasses drink

at ever new horizons

of fear/wonder

______________________

Pic: The rapids of the Red Cedar across from Spartan Stadium. I took myself out for a long walk to clear my head for a writing project. I was surprised by the number of work emails in my inbox--isn't everyone supposed to be on break until the new year?!

This Christmas

The fluffiest breakfast pudding was made and consumed, mulled cider was quaffed with and without whisky shots, pears that arrived as a gift were shared, Whamageddon was repeatedly and intentionally lost, presents were opened, exclaimed upon and loved, every gift bag, sheet of wrapping/tissue paper, and gift box was saved for next year, walks were undertaken despite the soggy day, some difficult conversations tackled, Zelda was played, grandparents were called, Christmas biriyani was made, a raucous dinner had, and the non-resident kid's laundry was folded + kid and laundry were delivered to their residence.

My favorite presents were the picture of me and Scout (it's already been placed at the family altar), a HUGE donation made for medical relief in Gaza, and a coupon for a drawing from Nu. So many books! It was so sweet that At gave me books that had duplicates (Vengeance is Mine, The Berry Pickers) in the big haul from Big A (Judy Chicago! Vauhini Vara! Gusto Obscura!), so I'll keep At's copies and return Big A's.

Pic: By Big A. The many branched antlered human reindeer made a reappearance this Christmas.

my good companions

Nu was a bit under the weather this morning and wanted to stay in bed. While I was getting peppermint tea and oatmeal to them, Big A took a look at me, gave me a tiny nibble of a treat and took me off for a hike on the Potawatomi Trail. 

By the time we got there, I was nice and mellow and then we spent four hours just scrabbling up and down the trail. It was slow going; on a flat surface we'd have logged 15-16 miles in four hours, but we got in just over ten miles because there was a significant amount of climbing. 

We were being silly and singing songs wrong and laughing and talking for the first couple of hours--we were mostly silent the last couple of hours as we tired, but that felt good too. 

We got back late + Nu didn't want to go + At forgot some meds and would be delayed, so we decided to stay home from the candlelight service at UU. Instead it was dinner and Rocky Aur Rani ki Prem Kahani (with just a little explaining about the old money-new money angle and the snatches of old film songs). 

When Nu was ready to head to bed, we did our traditional pajamas and books presents for the kids and they went off to bed happily laden with new books as usual. I prepped the breakfast pudding for tomorrow and then Big A helped me bring the kids' presents downstairs and put Max and Huck to bed. On to Christmas in earnest now. I am grateful I get to share this life with people who care so much for me.

Pic: Big A waiting for me at the top of a rise. I love how the tree roots criss-cross the path to make natural steps and terraces. Because The Overstory and Braiding Sweetgrass live in my head, I kept wondering if the trees do that to catch us in case we fall.

hiding in plain sight

At the lovely dinner party this evening, no one spoke of Gaza although I know that every single person at the table is agonizing about it, whether because we've been talking about it (Big A, Nu, LB, and TB) or because I know from their socials how upset they are (AH, KG, LV). It's like we have a disease and everyone knows about it, but we have to bravely carry on without discussing it at the dinner table. I played along beautifully.

I was all full of effing holiday cheer in my Rudoph the reindeer overalls with the jingly red nose. And every time someone remarked on it, I was hard pressed not to sing this song. 

Because that would also be inappropriate for this group--some of whom I know from work. Something very much on my mind, because after years at this point, last night I dreamt about the person I brought a Title IX case against. No current students remember him probably--he was asked to leave on the cusp of the pandemic--but in my dream an alumnus visiting the department was curious as to why there was no picture of the abuser in the faculty "gallery." I let it go on for a while, and when the alumnus asked again, I burst out: "Because he was a serial abuser. We don't have his picture up because he abused people." 

And then my dream veered off into a seaplane ride and since the only time I've been on one was near Seattle, that's how it looked. And the only point of the ride was to ooh and aah over some baroque Christmas decorations visible from the air. 

Speaking of which, I am almost ready for Christmas! In fact, I was almost ready last week, but I wasn't happy with the way I'd wrapped some presents, so I went in and did them all over again. No one will notice except for me. But it kinda makes sense to me. I'm so excited to give people their presents.

Pic: A blue tit (I think?) hides among the red winterberries along the Red Cedar. Walk with L. 

sign of the times

Just a reminder to my future self that while I continue to do the things expected of me and that I expect of myself, I'm living a fractured life at the end of 2023. 

Paralysis and helplessness and dissociation walk hand in hand with loss and sorrow and outrage.

I celebrated NWSA, Diwali, Hanukkah, and will celebrate Christmas, and the New Year. Sitting with ancestral songs, family and friends, sharing stories and hopes and food... This is the only way I know to get through this time... To mourn loss while holding love close and celebrating life.

Pic: I love this graphic from the Lebanese musician and artist Mazen Kerbaj, which captures the simultaneity of ongoing horrors and our own modes of survival. There's a clearer version here.