spontaneous birthings
head fluff when illuminated can reveal some very special thingsArchive for January, 2008
morning kindness
One of the happiest moments for me is to witness an act of kindness. I was at the bus stop trying my best to be patient, and across the street where lies a Korean-owned (you can tell by the name) mechanic shop, out walked an Asian man (the owner?) all bundled up in dark clothing that mechanics always wear, cradling something in his hands. A small group of birds were chipping away at the salt on the driveway. The man threw them food and the birds scuttled about happily. It makes me smile to see people take care of the earth’s animals.
Sometimes I get caught up in the superficial characteristics of a moment. When I saw the man feed the birds (he fed them twice by the way, as if he felt sorry for some birds too slow to grab a morsel), I thought, “See, that’s Asian people for you – taking care of the vulnerable.” In an early post, when I first started blogging, I discussed my observed mannerisms of Asian people. Maybe it’s my being adopted that increases my fascination towards a people with whom I share a face but none of the culture and language. Maybe it’s the emphasis of race that saturates the American experience in general.
I felt like I shared something with that man feeding the birds. My observations of him somehow became linked to his intent of kindess, the way my heart warmed thinking of the birds relieved to find food on a cold day was like an extension of that man’s heart.
taste memory
I can’t recall the name of the somatic condition by which some people experience senses as complex and linked happenings, etching into one’s own history as a unique and powerful way of remembering. What the heck am I talking about? you ask.
Have you ever smelled something and that made you taste something without having anything in your mouth? (Lemons and oranges do not count.) What I’m talking about is more than taste memory, the ability of food and mealtimes to conjure up forgotten moments delighting the experiencer with a glimpse of the past.
Some people see colors when they hear a cello overture. Some see a bright blue flash before their eyes when biting into an avocado. (Bonus points to whomever knows what I’m talking about and gives me the name!)
I call it a somatic condition because people who have the ability to cross-link senses must have a heightened sense (excuse the pun) of awareness. Imagine what life must be like when you see yellow when you hear laughter or taste soy sauce whenever you feel thick lace.
In a way, it’s like meditation, experiencing the body in its wholeness. It’s kind of like taste memory, but more like being “present” and in the moment, which ultimately can be stored as memory fodder for later on in life.
By the way, the soy sauce and lace scenario is offered by yours truly. I was 8? 9? when I discovered it. I was dusting the china cabinet and moved the lace off it. When I rubbed my fingers against the firm material (it has to be thick and firm lace for this to happen), I can taste soy sauce, the essence and smell of the dark soy and salt sitting in the back of my throat. And though it brings no specific memories to mind, I wonder what sort of past evokes this rare experience.
in a heartbeat
Last night sleep came slowly. Being human and impatient for waiting for anything, I tossed and turned, begging my eyes to stop moving beneath closed lids. After a half hour of restless “just laying there,” I was given an opportunity for awareness and mindfulness. Funny how serenity finds its way when you need it most.
As I laid on the left side of my body with my left arm folded beneath my chest, I felt my heart thumping. Fast and with a determination that alarmed me. I have never been so aware of my heartbeat in my entire life. It beat out and in, out and in, and I thought “I’m breathing too shallow. My heart is beating too fast.” Then I envisioned lying on a surgical table with gloved hands poking into my heart (I think I’ve watched too much TV). My instinct was to fear my beating heart. How crazy is that?
I pressed my hand on chest and felt the strong organ muscling breaths, enabling my own existence, and was hit with an immediate sense of gratitude. My heart was beating and I was alive.
new year’s grace
A new year can be intimidating. It is a time for new year resolutions, a committment to ourselves to better some aspect of our lives or to make positive changes to our inner core. We make promises and blow them to the wind so they soar with determination, and hope that they don’t lose stamina and hope as the days progress.
This is the first year where I haven’t thought about making a resolution. I’ve been writing a lot about being content and satisfied with where I am in life. While I know that I can always improve on something, I realize that fear is no longer a part of my life. It’s difficult to resolve to change or start something when fear is a stranger.
Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve steadily been traveling on a path of betterment. Call it selfish, but my striving and dedication to finding meaning in my life, has been fruitful and I can’t think of a single thing I’d want to change.
I’ve learned that selfishness need not always be a bad, shameful thing. We all need to nourish our bodies and souls, and on a daily basis need to be vigilant of negative influences (people or things). There is a positive selfishness that strengthens our efficacy, that boosts our confidence, that drives us to be better people.
I do not wish nor cross my fingers that 2008 will be another good year. I know it will be because I want it to be and will continue doing the things that make me feel whole and alive.
If I hope for anything in 2008, it is to be mindful of each day. To say “thank you” more often. To hope for peace and health for others around the world rather than personal needs. To treat people with kindness and compassion. To be satisfied with the many blessings that grace my existence here on earth.
