down

i haven't written because first, i was UP in the air, elated with all things balloons AND albuquerque (i want to live there!). and then, after dancing on the oldtown square, a new turquoise bracelet (a good story i will share sometime), chance encounters with my 2 balloon buddies, lots of thoughts and some actions pertaining to being "in the now" (thanks, trisha), and being called a "regular" by the El Don Motel (lit-up lasso-er vacancy sign) owner with all the star treatment a regular at the el don could enjoy, i found my way camping with my M. up into the four corners area - it was cool to visit 4 states in 4 seconds! - , mesa verde, and shiprock. we explored in a way that i've never been able to with another.

i also haven't written and probably won't write for a while because i am depressed. sad. less. i wish it wasn't so. i wish i didn't want to pull my insides out and lay them to dry in the sun. i feel i can't write it here. i know the audience is kind, but i feel this is private. it's real. i'm real. i don't know how i go so up and then so down. i don't know if what i do is normal or not. i feel i have given so much away, and i had to! but at the moment, i'm in pain and my under-eyes hurt, and i want to give more but there is nothing left right now.

i don't want the time inbetween.

imogene heap puts it well in her song "Wait it Out":

"Everybody says

that time heals everything.

But what of the wretched hollow?

The endless inbetween?

Are we just going to wait it out?

And sit here cold?

Look, you'll be long gone by then.

And lackluster in the dust we lay

'round old magazines.

Flourescent lighting sets the scene

for all we could and should be being

in the one life that we've got..."

it doesn't completely describe my emotions but

could, should, one life, living...

i live and give and FEEL and now. i'm sort of a mess.

UP, up, and AWAY!

Chasing my dreams.

Ready for lift off in 2 hours and 7 minutes...hoping to never land! A little clarification - I'm driving to New Mexico with Trisha and Ruth, and we will arrive in Albuquerque just before sunrise, blurry-eyed and caffeinated, ready to behold mass ascension.

treasure

countenance

A dear friend asked why I would represent myself with "mugshot #3" (see earlier post). Well, because it does represent me. So does this.
And all the phases inbetween.

I love that what we feel inside changes our countenance, our skin cells, and our aura, no matter how difficult or ecstatic the moment, and no matter how lasting. I'm reminded that there is ALWAYS potential for either extreme.

smelling the creosote

my roommate, Ruth, one of my best roommates ever, provides our home with a cache of movies, mostly comedies--stuff i don't usually see in the theatre. anyway, i watched The Yes Man (YES MAN, YES MAN, YES MAN!) the other day, and besides really enjoying the movie, Zooey Deschanel, and the idea that we should all be saying YES to living and not just existing!, i found the running/photo group (they run and take photos at the same time) corny but, what-the-heck, interesting.

as i ran yesterday at dusk, when through the peephole at papago park, the sun slipped into something more comfortable for sleep, when at the canal, the water reflected a comic strip version of a cloudy sky, when the majestic desert stood tall and still, ready to shake in the blaze of the sunset, when feet pounded, breath was measured, and eyes widened, when a brave, white-tailed rabbit nibbled as an admirer observed its long hind paws, when the smell of the creosote bush told the air that rain IS possible in this teeming but dry desert, when the rising, iridescent moon invited the departing sun for a slow dance...when all of this glowed around me, i was reminded of the running/photo club and wished that i could capture a snap of such solitary beauty. here, i tried to catch the moon mid-opening dust dance...

today, after conference ended and i picked up speed again, i returned to papago park with camera in hand, ready for magic. the light wouldn't be replicated, though the run was completely fulfilling. again, i rubbed creosote inbetween my fingers, forcing open the fuzzy white pompom to leave its faint perfume on my tips for quick sniffing highs during the run. since i had my camera, i took a few shots (saguaros - the younger and the older). i'll keep doing the running/photo club thing, 'tho not from the treadmill.

click on mass happiness

http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.balloonfiesta.com%252F&h=df84168da4d78d4ed6be7ef5c1adb9a4&ref=nf

balloons. the colorful, dreamy, larger-than-life ones, way up there in the sky. one week from today.

my spirit is giddy.
oh, i'm really SO EXCITED!!! to embark on my 2nd annual trip to the balloon fiesta in the land of enchantment.

favorite fries

(Pete's)
favorite man

(M.)
one of my favorite places to be

(temple) (outside) (under a tree)

highlights, lowlights, and no lights

i'm not so shiner-y lately.

last night...
two rings around the moon

the night before last...
autumn blew in with gusto
a chill
and an invitation

tonight...
the heavy, cobweb spun sky,
like a white asprin to my head,
let one large drop of
rain
christen
my crown chakra,
the Sahasrara

boy or girl?

A new student arrived on the stoop today, all shy and wrapped up in her pink hoodie, eyes shiny like a startled rabbit, paws stiff. As she pushed back the hood to show her head, I knew that I would have to talk to the class about hair, since her shorn hair was nothing like all of the girls' long and ponytailed, braided, and barretted hair.

The timid little girl stood on display as eager boys and girls raised their hands to show that they wanted to be her new friends. But, the thoughts of the second-graders went right past the appropriateness gauge and filled the room. "Is that a he?" "Why is her hair so short?" "Miss Siren, did her hair fall out?" "How do you know that's a girl?" "She has earrings, see?" The kids mean no harm--they are just curious. In fact, their innate and unhampered curiosity is one of their most attractive qualities.

A discussion on hair ensued. I explained how I had cut all of my hair off and thought that it was quite stylish. We talked about how some boys have long hair and some girls have short hair. And then, Carlos candidly interrupted (as he often does), "When are we going to talk about MUSTACHES because my mom is growing one of those."

mug shot

MUG SHOT #3

i have a bizarre fascination with documenting the extremes. here is one of recent (3 nights ago) to keep on file. go ahead, smile.

my mouth waters for...

a sweet and spicy CRUNCH!

these chips are my current faves.

buy them so that Doritos keeps makin 'em.

i'm pickin' some up right now for that long drive home in my

auto-office.

coated fingers. lookin' for the bits with all the stuff blasted on.

ugh. they made me sick.

the art of loving

okay, this title (below) is so full of itself but i don't know how else to categorize it!

4 memorable moments
of lasting self-discovery
in two months:

1. training for and completing a half-marathon - life changed. my confidence and ownership of my truest feelings went to the moon, while worry about everything waned and had a place-check. dissolve.

2. deciding to "break" from an unhealthy living situation - this decision, made immediately after i returned from the half-marathon while still in my stinky socks and running attire, was a leap of faith, but again, came from truth. it meant missing one of my all-time closest friends. for how long? maybe forever. it meant i would no longer have someone to cruise around town listening to Tiesto with when energy pushed me beyond the barrier of the walls at midnight. it meant searching and finding a healthy place and roommate so that i could breathe out and sink in comfortably.

3. M. gone for 2 months - i wondered why he wasn't here to help me switch classrooms, to help me move all of my belongings to my new apartment, to celebrate my dad's birthday with the rest of the family, to send a text when i felt ignored. i had to do it on my own (of course, with help from friends but without relying on him for my changes, which let them be MINE). i thanked him as soon as he returned. it reminds me of an ANASAZI principle called "the making of an asking." it is letting someone try to do it on their own before stepping in to ease their way. it is letting them decide when they need to ask for help and trusting that you will.

4. meditation - that meditation...wow. i'm going again this wednesday. i never knew that i stopped myself from being still with my own thoughts. i mean, i think all of the time. but, the point in the meditation was "no thought," which i relate to reading the scriptures and finding answers that have no logical base in the words read. without thought, but with focus, there is room for the most important. from the meditation, i started reading The Art of Loving again, by Erich Fromm. Here is what sticks with me so far, this round:

"Concentration is by far more difficult to practice in our culture, in which everything seems to act against the ability to concentrate. The most important step in learning concentration is to learn to be alone with oneself without reading, listening to the radio, smoking, or drinking. Indeed, to be able to concentrate means to be able to be alone with oneself--and this ability is precisely a condition for the ability to love. If I am attached to another person because I cannot stand on my own feet, he or she may be a lifesaver, but the relationship is not one of love. Paradoxically, the ability to be alone is the condition for the ability to love."

i saw that movie, Adam, again. see it! in the film, Adam wants his girlfriend to move from NYC to California with him. He has Asperger's syndrome and has never left the city on his own. when she questions him - "why do you you want me to go with you?" - he stammers and then says that she is part of him, that he needs her to help him find his way to work and to say the right things to people, and to understand what others mean. "because i can't go without you." i won't give away her decision, but this supports Fromm's assertion that "the ability to be alone is the condition for the ability to love."

med-itate

the monk in orange exhaled a barrage of loud, nearly indecipherable, indian-accented axioms toward us and the large Buddha. but, what he said is probably true. after practicing meditation for 6 months, one will no longer need a psychologist.

huge ball of knotted yarn = my thoughts. to retard their multi-colored flitter-fraying, winding, tying, binding, i focus on...

breath-
in,
out.
the guide--voice so calming--like a parent consoling a sad child-why am i crying?-have i not given myself one moment to sit with these thoughts?-i thought i was...-
in,
out .
shana, that was only 2 seconds-
in...
my mind hurts-i'm tired-why doesn't he understand?-i wish i could lie down on the floor right now-has anyone ever done that here?-their eyes are closed-that will disrupt their meditation-what is the scent of that incense stick?-pine?-
out .
heart is pounding-head and brain are attacking the skin around my skull-when will the ibuprofen work?-
in,
out.
tears
in,
out.
back is achy-i'm getting more lines in my forehead vertical to my right eye-neat house-
in,
out.
okay, this is taking a very long time and i want to squirm-stop thinking-focus!-
in...
bothered-
in...
stop, mind-see the breath-good posture-interesting looking people-eyelids feel like they are pushing inward-
in...
this is why he needed more time-can i sleep on trisha's couch?-why am i afraid to slow down?-
in,
out.
slow down-mental mouse wheel-Ferris wheel-teaching-family-religion-relationship-body-time-
out...

i teach 2nd grade

I don't know how appropriate it is to post pictures of my students online, so here is a picture of me, circa 1982, the same age as my current students who are so fresh!

When I was in 2nd grade, my reading teacher brought in ashes from the eruption of Mt. St. Helens. I also remember the "inside" camping trip we took and the countless mystery stories I wrote with her encouragement. I NEVER thought that I would love teaching this same grade, but I do.

We've had a tent pitched inside our classroom since last week and tomorrow it's OUR inside campout...telling our own ghost stories, eating trail mix, watching the nebulae aswirl on navy blue butcher paper, using flashlights and making shadow puppets, whispers, watching for deer and rodents...i am so going camping this weekend.

playing telephone

Neighborhood Payphone
You don't see a neighborhood payphone that often, anymore. I had to wait for the telephoner to hang up before I could capture this image. It's just down the street from the school where I teach. While waiting, I sat in my car eating french fries with Pete's special sauce, windows down (I didn't want that lingering fry-smell), and a.c. on as I listened to the ice cream truck jingle by and was "found" by 2 students from school who rolled up to my open window as I savored a soggy fry and asked quizzically, "Miss Siren, what are you doing?"

My Ghetto-ayse Phone
This is the phone that hugs my ear and brushes my lips. Its guts are held together with its fourth round of scotch-tape dressing, yet I flip it open proudly. Actually, it doesn't close all of the way. So, the battery only charges for about 30 minutes of use. Deactivation is slated for October 14th, when I can finally switch from my 2-year term to an obligation-free plan. Kind of like a worn baby blanket, I will miss its character and the stamina it has shown through the good, the bad, the laughter, the tears, and the "accidents."

I'd like to see one worse for the wear that still works.

bedhead

for my first ever youtube post, i wanted it to be something that has been with me for a long, winding while. this song blows my mind. no video, just aural, close-your-eyes-and-feel-it, resonance. middle of the soul.

when you find me

http://www.imeem.com/nettwerkmusic/music/hW-ihcNn/joshua-radin-feat-maria-taylor-when-you-find-me/
click and listen. i don't know how to post pictures, music, etc. but i do know how to link. the song, "when you find me," is from the movie, Adam, which is about the relationship between a young lady and a young man who has asperger's syndrome. i saw it last night in the theatre with only one other person present! i have yet to see a movie in a theatre completely empty except for myself, but i've come close on many late-night occasions.

the movie made me think about the people in my life who have no labels, and, without such tickets for excuse, i, we, judge, because they don't speak, react, think, respond...in any way we would.

the song only has to do with love and longing.

peace out

neil said, and i agree, that he hasn't seen me so peaceful ever since he's known me (3 1/2 years). i'm not bragging or anything, in fact, i am shocked. i NEVER thought that the word 'peaceful' would be used to describe me. not that i am the anti-peace. i relish peace. but, it's like calling a rabbit peaceful. or a hummingbird, darting zig-zag between troves of nectar, "at peace." and i'm not calling myself a rabbit or a hummingbird either. just. well. i like it.

no more redbull AND burning shirts

two totally disparate subjects of no relation except they happened on the same day. let's start with

no more redbull...
my habit has gotten completely and embarassingly out of control. the first time i drank one was on the trip back from san diego a few years ago. i was exhausted, needed some energy so that i wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel...you know, they say that truckers use drugs to stay awake on their long treks--how else could you stay awake even if a.m. radio is stimulating in its own way?...anyway, i liked the slender can, the bright blue color, the taste even, and especially its affect on me. through the years, i've gone through periods without it, most recently when i worked at anasazi. in good concience, i couldn't ask the youngwalkers to turn away from their addictions when i couldn't turn away from mine on my weeks off. so, i quit. i don't get much sleep though, and often can't shake the sluggishness until too late at night. well, today, during my appointment with neil, he helped me identify a time in my life when my physical energy started being used for an internal struggle--age 6. it's nothing crazy, and in fact, makes so much sense. neil uses a lot of alternative therapies alongside some traditional psychotherapy. he works with the chakras, with the spirit, with the subconcious. i pleaded to be able to drink redbull just one more day and he relented. But, he said that i needed to not drink it in order to be able to notice the changes. i am quite confident that i will notice more energy throughout my day as well as clarity of mind. goodbye redbull. it's been a nice but expensive ride.

too tired to share about burning shirts. there's a teaser for next time.

ce la vie, anonymity!

with the recent arrival of lots of emails from friends and family members about their newborn blogs, i want to comment! and i realize that i can either a. create a new blog that is not so free (as in, a politer, more digestible version of me), b. just put this out there as is (a little scary for me, honestly), or c. put this out there and be concious of my audience. and comment accordingly.

i think a mixture of b and c could work. my purpose in blogging was not for anyone to be up to date on my whereabouts, my thoughts, or my life, but more for me to inside-out my head and my heart with some abandon.

and what of my secrets? everyone has them. don't they? hmm. any suggestions?