Imagine

December 8, 1980. I remember where I was. Senior in high school. I had never been to New York City but the world changed in that instant. I remember I had a British pen pal and we wrote letters, he was a Beatles fan; we were devestated, of course. I finally visited NYC for the first time in April, 2007 and had to stand at the Imagine memorial. Every year I remember.

Imagine

by John Lennon

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people

Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will live as one

Thanksgiving Trees

Sometimes answers come in the most unexpected

places. This year I decided to cook a turkey and all the trimmings even though things didn't turn out like I had originally planned. When the turkey was in the oven I took a walk outside - trees always cheer me up. The photo is of one in the middle of the city. A friend came over and we had dinner, and it wound up being a wonderful evening of good talk, good food and good wine. That happily surprised me and reminded me of the many good friends I have.

A few days earlier, on November 24, my mom emailed me that their first born son would have been 50 years old that day. He is the one I wrote about in my poem "First Born Brother" that was published in Salamander journal. Some things untalked about release other things into the world. I called my best friend - he got it immediately, how life works like that.

The holidays this year will be a time of healing and change for me. Change, because they don't always work out as planned. An answer came in a very unlikely place today. I was watching Season 8 of "Magnum P.I." on Netflix - the final season where Tom Selleck as the Ferrari-driving private eye Thomas Magnum reveals once and for all if Higgins is none other than Robin Masters himself. I remember the TV series well from the 80's, but never saw the last season. In the episode "Transitions" Magnum says - "The only thing to count on in life is change. Transitions are hard. But don't be afraid of transitions. They make you strong."
Throughout the episode, tidbits of advice are doled out:

Change comes at an inconvenient time.

HOW you make transitions are as important as making them.

Finish up whatever you are working on before moving on to the next thing.

Change - you can't hurry it, even though you want it to go faster. It moves on its own time.

You can get so caught up in changes in your own life that you don't always notice people around you going through change too - stop a moment - and once you do, notice. Give friends some help with their problems and in the meantime your problems seem to have a way of working themselves out and even if they don't at least it reminds you that you're not th e only one who is trying to sort things out.

Thanks Magnum for a great Thanksgiving message for me! Healing comes through change - sometimes the Universe has something better in mind than what I planned. I am making peace with situations, friends and loved ones. My boyfriend and I may no longer be doing the same things, but he is still my best friend, and although I don't know how to label it, all I know is that we are talking, going through change. So even if things aren't the same or as planned, the Universe usually has something better in mind. I just have to be patient, try not to rush it, and notice.

First Snow

I woke up today to this view - yes, a dusting of snow to go along with the cold.

My boyfriend and I "broke up" on election eve - unexpected, but the signs were there. Time has been passing slowly and swiftly for me, processing, grieving, and now rebuilding. Times of silence, finally talking it out, feeling the pain out, reading, writing. When we talked a few days later, he told me of the poem of mine that said his feelings, the one I wrote a long time ago and almost forgot about. Can we still be friends? Yes. But things will never be the same between us and my life is now moving on, changing seasons with the first snow.

When I teach one of my writing classes, I reference a poem from Yuko Taniguchi, a Minnesota poet, from her book "Foreign Wife Elegy." I won't list that one here, but reading her book again I discovered this one, that is appropriate for now.

Practice

"But trust the hours. Haven't they

carried you everywhere, up to now?"

-- Galway Kinnell

I.

I practice piano and repeat scales one hundred

times every day because what we do today

becomes tomorrow's harvest; practice makes perfect.

Bach's prelude drops layers of voice all at once.

Over and over, I practice until I realize that the sound

full of sorrow demands a complete

separation from the pianist

full of sorrow.

II.

Walking into the dark tunnel alone

at night frightens you, though you may

overcome this fear if you practice

this every day, or you may never

overcome it like the terrible emptiness

inside you; it does not make you stronger.

III.

All the living that you did

suddenly seems like practice

for dying, but living is not supposed to be

a rehearsal for death. We are never ready

for departure, but the curtain is wide open

with lights shining on the stage. You are getting up

slowly. Soon you will walk away from us

as if to practice walking

for the first time.

Yuko Taniguchi

The world rejoices!

All I can say is wow - I thought it might happen but was very nervous it wouldn't and now it has. I watched the television for awhile and then had to get out into the world to be with others and celebrate this historic moment. I voted for Obama in the caucuses back in February - and yesterday went to the same school to vote again. I showed up at 7 am and the line was around the building, waited over an hour but well worth it. The world will know what America is again.

excerpt from Langston Hughes' Let America Be America Again:

(thanks to facebook friends)

O, let America be America again--

The land that never has been yet--

And yet must be--

the land where every man is free.

The land that's mine--

the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--

Who made America,

Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--

The steel of freedom does not stain.

From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,

We must take back our land again,America!

O, yes,I say it plain,

America never was America to me,

And yet I swear this oath--

America will be!

I love fall!

I took this photo on Friday - leaves, colors, crisp weather, warm days....I love living here where there is autumn!

Debates & Diagramming

Remember the other woman whose last name also begins with "P"? In the what's-her-name-I-refuse-to-acknowledge political media hype, remember that the Speaker of the House is third in line to the Presidency. So, if the current VP candidate managed to get elected from American stupidity had that heartbeat away experience to become President and then something happened to her, there would be another woman waiting in the wings: Nancy Pelosi. (Another good thought, she is there waiting, for the Democrats too).

I am not particapting in the audience for TV and radio political media foolishness. But I am reading the New York Times, and Maureen Dowd had an insightful and funny op-ed piece on speech patterns of political candidates. Since when does being 'common' or 'middle class' mean that you talk in "Frontier Baroque"? (Dowd)

Then she uttered yet another sentence that defies diagramming: "It is from Alaska that we send those out to make sure that an eye is being kept on this very powerful nation, Russia, because they are right there." (Dowd)

Dowd summarized her thoughts with her best insight - True mavericks don't brand themselves (as mavericks).

I started thinking about my high school experience - the "brains" were sometimes picked on by the "jocks," in a kind of jealous way. The jocks had the veneer of popularity with their looks overcoming any grammatical and intellectual setbacks. We had debates in high school too - and a good debater could take either side and make a good closing argument. The art of debating is lost in television. Now it's looks, personality and one or two soundbyte lines. My personal high school experience didn't prepare me very well for diagramming sentences or identifying a dangling gerund or mangled preposition but I did come out of school a good speller and in the top 20% of my class. Maybe there should be a spelling bee debate - Obama/Biden would win hands down. Obama wrote both his books by himself, without a ghost writer, only the usual editor. What is it that America has against intellectuals by calling them "elite"? At my 20 year high school reunion, well...even by the 10th....the 'jocks' were looking old and the 'brains' or 'nerds' had the good jobs, the money and were suddenly popular with those who never paid them any attention. That is, if they bothered to show up at the reunion.

The Presidential Election reminds me more and more of a High School Homecoming King/Queen contest - but this time the brains must win over the jocks. There is more at stake than a football game.

Rebuilding and Remembrance

Last weekend I drove across the new 35W bridge. I had my reservations about doing this. There are a lot of memories tied up in that bridge - it collapsed last August - killing 13 people, one of them a Capella employee. I found myself driving on my Saturday errand schedule and decided why not, I'll try it. It is white, fresh, new, multi-lane with lights and some funky crooked-looking spires on each side. I have been in the habit for so long taking alterate routes that I forgot how easy it is to cross it. How quick it is to get around with those exits I used to take with it. I'm glad others are using it, it clears up the downtown traffic. I couldn't help but hold my breath a bit as I remembered those who have crossed it, before. So, this bridge is finished in a mere 14 months with an influx of Federal government cash and a focus. We are all waiting for other bridges and construction projects to be completed. Let's hope they all keep moving along.





Capella University, where I work, is donating money towards the memorial in Gold Medal Park, which is near the Guthrie Theater. Here is the link. I am glad we are remembering. I have a post earlier in this blog on what I was doing when the collapse happened.





I think about what I remember from last year. Besides the bridge collapse, there were other losses - the suicide of my writing instructor and Bennington College director Liam Rector in mid-August. My cat Tex died in October. My college life sometimes seems worlds away as I am focused more deeply into my world of work, and I have changed my lifestyle a bit by moving. I am still writing poetry, but not as often. I am venturing more towards essays and stories. America is changing, with presidential candidates and situations that seem more insane everyday. Poetry grounds me. Writing builds the foundation. I remember what Liam used to say - "Always Be Closing." That means, make your own opportunities. Create your own work because no one can do it for you. The photo at left is of Liam at Bennington - one of his lectures to the new students. He would play a clip from the movie "Glenn Gary Glenn Ross" with Alec Baldwin slamming the salespeople on how to close. Liam would play it at the Bennington session with no explanation, once a year, to the new recruits and the returning students. You either got it it or you didn't. No explanation. Like life.

How will I refine my life in the oncoming months? What new bridges to cross await me?
I will let the poems come as they may - they will decide for me.