you don't know how precious you are

And so we are here. Sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic and internet is back to being spotty at best. Plus it's been raining, great big buckets of rain.

As we were landing back in the jungle last week J looked at me and said It feels like this has been one long day and I started laughing because that felt exactly right. Like the past month had been one surreal dream of doctors and hospitals and now as we walked down the jetway it felt like we were waking up. It smells different here, see. It smells like heat.

The night we came back we were invited for dinner, we sat with 6 other people under a palapa, eating good food and drinking too much wine (this friend, she finds wine here and it is good, but I think any wine here is good because it's hard to find) and the conversation was perfect, one of those long rolling nights full of laughter, telling stories. One of the things that continues to strike me here differently is what we talk about, here we talked all night of spiritual matters, not religion but spirit, of things people have encountered and how they've witnessed transformation. My priestess friend was there, radiant as usual and midway through the night she jumps up childlike to dance in the coconut grove under the moon. I watch her and I smile as she calls out to the stars.

This is what I have missed.

The next day I reconnect with the friend who has been collecting our mail in my absence. She and I carry 4 boxes to my car, four heavy boxes that are full, are full and overfull with school supplies. She looks at me in disbelief I can't believe your friends did all of this. Do you think they will mind if some of this goes to the other school in the village too? I tell her the truth, that I don't think you would mind at all as long as it's going where it was needed most and she said there is no shortage of that so I take the boxes home and start to open them and all of a sudden I am sitting in the middle of the floor crying because I am so humbled by your generosity and not only your generosity but for your love and gifts for M and for how you wrote notes telling me you did this with your children and how much it meant to them. I could say thank you two hundred and seventy six times and it would not feel like enough.

J stands over me in awe, he can't believe you would do something like this and yet at the same time he can, he's seen it before with the Just Posts and with the flood and with the orphanage in Africa and yet he still can't help but shake his head. Your friends, they don't even really know you and that's when I stood up and said you are wrong there buddy, just look around and tell me that we don't know each other and that our love for our community here isn't the same or better as anywhere else and he nodded his head you are right he said. And I am.

So I divided things up along with the things you'd sent to me in the States (you women are so creative, feathers and glitter and shells and blocks and glue and paint and sparkles and so much colored paper and crayons?) and took the biggest box to M's school and two smaller boxes to two other schools, each teacher stood in shock and hugged me tight. I let them know this wasn't from me but from my wonderful friends and they all said to thank you so much. And today when I dropped M off at school they were using playdoh for the first time and they had new puzzles, and new crayons on the table. The children are using new and different and better supplies today because of each of you. One other box is still waiting, apparently there is a homeschool out in the bush where there are only 10 or so kids who can't make it into the village. I hear they have next to nothing and my neighbor asked if we could share some of our supplies with them too. Four different schools. You helped four different schools and if there was more I could keep going, the need here will forever outshine the resources in a way that's hard and stupid and honest and real.

So for the two hundredth and seventy seventh time, I thank you.

Want to know the song in my head? The Ocean by Dar Williams

letting my conscience be my guide

I'd arranged awhile back to take M on a date of sorts to one of those godawful skating Disney nightmares on ice. As the day approached the excitement increased and yesterday we found ourselves sitting in an enormous stadium surrounded by commercialism and hyped up children. I was doing this because I knew she's love it, so I decided to suspend my disbelief for a few hours, contentedly settling into my seat with M to one side.

Immediately it was chaos. The family behind us purchased some of those freakish plastic Mickey heads filled with some sort of purple liquid. Within a few moments the kids dropped them and as is commonly known, shit runs downhill. We now have a puddle of goo at our feet. Sweet.

That didn't stop the hawkers preying on young impressionable minds with their rotating glowing things and plastic weaponry. They'd approach even as I glare at them impervious to my intimidating chill. Dude, shoo, I say as M's eyes light up and again I say Dude, shoo and he'd look at me askance and wander off. Take that Disney.

The show finally starts and it's typical at best. Princesses are being duly saved by Princes and the softly played evil attempts to transcend over good without success. My eyes are rolling back in my head saved only by intently focusing on my child's face, her eyes are beautiful and her hand clasps mine tightly. She crawls in my lap as we share a tiny chair. In profile she's stunning and I get to stare at her for longer than usual because she's sitting so still.

Just as I'm starting to wonder if they sell beer at this thing the scene shifts into a different riff, my childhood is brought front and center with dozens of skaters come out representing the world. They clasp hands and glide in circles, their voices clear:

it's a world of laughter, a world of tears

its a world of hopes,

its a world of fear

theres so much that we share

that its time we're aware

its a small world after all

its a small world after all

its a small world after all

its a small world after all

its a small, small world

There is just one moon and one golden sun

And a smile means friendship to everyone.

Though the mountains divide

And the oceans are wide

It's a small small world

And my eyes well up with tears and I sing silently along. Amidst all the commercialism and the ridiculousness, it's still this. From those of you in England whose exchange rate with ours means even more money for the jungle, to folks I've never met who so graciously and quickly agreed to help people they do not know. It's this. It is a small world after all.

After the show we walk out into the light. M's still holding my hand and she looks up at me thank you mama, thank you and her smile is wide. We get past the last of the stands selling stupid shit and I notice her eyes grab hold. I clasp tighter as we walk past and she says see Mama, I didn't ask you to buy anything because I didn't need it even though it looks really good and I feel the tears in my eyes again and I pick her up and hug her tight and realize this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Thank you again for your incredible generosity in helping my friends who have been affected by flooding in Central America. Because of you, a water pressure pump, water, food and medicine have all been purchased for folks who are in desperate need. If you still want to help, please email me at girlplustwo(at)yahooDOTcom. My friends in the Village are so thankful to you.

Update: We are now up to $800.00. You are my heroes. Thank you.

Update #2: We are now up to $890.00. You can't see me but I'm dancing. Thank you. Thank you all for spreading the word and for sharing your precious dollars.

thank you

There aren't enough words to express my gratitude that so many of you would so generously give money to people you do not know. As of today, we've received $510 - an amount that goes twice as far where it's going and will be used to offset the loss of basic needs like clean water and food. Some of you have said you'll give over the weekend so we'll hold anything else that comes and send another wire on Monday. I am overwhelmed at your compassionate spirits.

And more than that, you've given me hope and filled my head with ideas about what else is possible. So from the bottom of my heart - Thank You.

Update: $610 has been raised. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

sometimes it strikes me

It's not remarkable, except that it is. The places I visit, where I get to read about you trying to get pregnant or having a baby, or your second, or perhaps even as a surrogate. Then I go and hear about others celebrating birthdays or being challenged by toddlerhood or missing their own parents. I find those who are travelling, or starting a new job, or speaking out, or campaigning for something they care deeply about. And then there are those of you who are dating, finding new love, discovering new frontiers and then others who are finding the end of the love they once knew.

I have the honor and the privilege of hearing your thoughts, the things you might not say to your neighbor or even your friends. The things that seem insignificant, the moments in time that would never make it to the water cooler and yet are shared here.

And if I didn't have this place then the smallest moments, the ones that sear my heart would go unrecorded. I'd tell no one that M was having a hard time sleeping last night and that J and I kept checking in on her. That I found him in her room at one point sitting on the floor watching her fitful sleep and I sat next to him and in the soft glow of her nightlight we gazed at each other and at her and we smiled the softest smile, sitting with her sleeping beauty and once again taking stock of how lucky we are and how we cannot believe even after all this time that we've created her from us. If I didn't have you I'd never share this, instead I'd keep it to myself and while no less significant it might go unremembered at some point as so many other colors light up the view. But I do and so I do and here it is, for giving and taking and one day it will be for her too.

And that's not remarkable either, except that it is. Thank you for gathering around my fire and allowing me to sit quietly by yours. It's been over two years now and while it's just what we do it's also so much more.

grati-dude

I woke up thinking about Canada for some reason. That today in the US the world comes to a standstill and yet to our neighbors up north and elsewhere, those fabulous neighbors and friends whom I enjoy on a daily basis are probably rolling eyes with enough of the thankfulness already people....

So essentially, I am thankful for Canada for keeping us straight. And Europe for kicking us in the ass. And Asia for being really cool. And Africa, you bad ass you. Australia, you too. I am truly thankful for all of you who share bits of my world and allow me to share in yours too.

On a more personal note: my amazing child, my sweet J, the roof over my head, and a full belly when I need it, a sense of humor and a still curious soul. I have everything I need. My cup runneth over.

And to the rest of you Yanks....I hope you have a lovely, beautiful, meaningful day, however you choose to spend it. You make this country a better place each and every day simply by being you.

And PS. I am also thankful you all cared so much about the blankie. You astute and powerful women, you. You'll be happy to know M's recovered nicely. She's a trooper, my M.

Oh, and past but certainly not least, I am thankful to Beth the glamorous ex-pat chef who schooled me on my very first cornbread stuffing attempt and who cooks locally and sustainably all year long.

katannuta and ego

Gratitude is an emotion which involves a feeling of emotional indebtedness towards another person; often accompanied by a desire to thank them, or to reciprocate in kind. (abbreviated from the wiki-people)

From a Buddhist point of view, the Pali word which we translate in English as gratitude is katannuta. The word katannuta consists of two parts: kata which means that which has been done, especially that which has been done to one, to oneself, and annuta which means knowing or recognising.

So katannuta means knowing or recognizing what has been done, that is to say knowing and recognising what has been done to one for one's benefit. Hence the connotation of the Pali word is rather different from its English equivalent. The connotation of the English gratitude is more emotional but the connotation of katannuta is rather more intellectual.

This suggests that gratitude involves an element of knowledge - knowledge of what has been done to us or for us. If we do not know that something has benefited us, we'll not feel gratitude. (More wiki-people)

So, then, is it the recognizing that allows us to be/feel gratitude? Or does the taking for granted the things we forget to notice allow us to miss the intellectual boat and therefore, forget to be grateful?

Because truly, it would seem, if we were cognizant of our good fortune, and anyone who has the luxury of blog reading falls into that category in varying degrees, then we'd exist in a perpetual state of gratitude - perhaps not to each other, but to divinity or mother earth.

I am rolling around the notions of intellectual versus emotional gratitude, and more importantly, how mindfulness of the above can not only affect my daily existence, but allow me to embrace a fuller potential. Because if you break it down, none of us are givers. Rather, we are all part of a giant cosmos that gives and takes, and sometimes our energies intersect with others, and good things happen. To consider oneself a giver supposes a connotation that we are indeed separate.

And honestly, sometimes there is a hell of a lot of ego in that. J mentioned the other day that my blog friends must have a one sided image of me - that I carry on about homeless this, and giving that, and it's all inherently bullshit because giving is not about me. I got rather pissed for a few minutes, and then realized he was right. It's true, I might hold my ideals in front of me as a way to fulfill ego. I also might want to share the things I care about. But I got too defensive not to admit there was truth in his words. And it made me wonder if I wasn't somehow needing to make it known, rather than done for the sake of doing. (Perhaps I am more of a Buddhist than I thought). Probably not. But I digress.

I am paraphrasing a piece from Kahlil Gibran as further food for thought:

You give but little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?
And what is fear of need but need itself?
There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome. And there are those who have little and give it all.
These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.
And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;
Though the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.
For in truth it is life that gives unto life - while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness. And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives. Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings; For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.

I like this - a combination disavowing guilt trips AND pushing for interconnectedness and lack of ego. There's a reason he's called The Prophet, yo.

So I'll continue to mull. I think this goes back to the simple act of being mindful. And how we get to continually decide how we want to show up in this world. And how we might not want to show up after all.