Flying to San Diego

Airplane cabins are pressurized but there is still something about the altitude, or the dry air, or seeing the world so far below that elicits a magical feeling.  Suspended in air, between time zones, hundreds of miles from familiar places, dislocated from the earth, reference points fade away and one's life, the lives of others, the state of humanity, appear small and compact, and sound in longer phrases.  Some things become so clear just as they lose their edges.  The past and the present meld and give some meaning to the current direction; it seems a seminal experience to fly every so often.

Family Time

We forgot to bring our Christmas present to my grandfather when we went to his home a few days ago and so my father suggested that with the help with one of my brothers, we make an extra trip to his home to deliver it.

It's been raining a lot in Cincinnati, all day yesterday, heavy today, probably more to come.  So we drove through the grey rainy highway, windshields wipers and frosted windows that wouldn't clear, out to Mt.Healthy.

We stepped into the living room, filled with geodes from his son, a geologist, a few telescopes from his interest in the stars, a bonsai, pictures my late grandmother took in Kenya that still hang above the television, less a memento perhaps, than a lingering.  There is a drawer from a type set machine that hangs on the wall and serves as display shelves of sorts, a point of pride from his childhood, when his father had a printing press in their home.

A retired minister, he is a leader in conversational practice.  Listening astutely, opening with questions that might lead to more information about the state of someone's life.  And he shares with us his memories that pertain to our current lives, his trips to England, his children's involvement with music, his own attempts as such.  And then there is a mix of other sharing, experiences from his ministry, glimpses of his character.  He still speaks to and counsels many people by phone, he is a very trustworthy person and reflective, either by nature or by profession.

I have always wondered where he came from.  An only child, raised in a home of parents and grandparents, carrying something learned from them or somewhere else, forward.  If it is not possible to understand something concrete in him or to know his parents, it is certainly possible to see the value of self-reliance he has passed along to the people in his family.

We shouldn't take for granted the opportunities that we have to be with family.  We are a part of one another and can teach one another as mirrors of ourselves.  Sometimes we try to evade it, but when we approach one another, what we are avoiding often changes and something opens.  And what cannot be amended is something from which there is much to be learned, something of compassion for one another and ourselves.

Visit to Waverly

Holidays present a special opportunity to check in with family.  That's largely what they are about.  But it can be a strange thing to step into another's life.

Today we drove to Waverly, Ohio where my grandmother lives.  Because of traffic we arrived later than planned and only stayed for a few hours, exchanging presents, talking a bit, and allowing time for my mother to help my grandmother with some mending and sorting clothing gifts.  And then we left.

We only get a glimpse of what life is like for her.  And it is possible for her to show a specific side for a short period if she so chooses.  And after that period we are left to a long distance relationship, of learning about one another through my mother or occasional phone calls that only connect if they happen to be convenient in our unknown lives.  She goes out to get lunch at a certain, naps at a certain time.  I teach, and prepare for teaching.  It's hard to know what is really convenient and comfortable in terms of scheduled communication.

So it is wonderful to have the opportunity to actually be in the same room.  And at the same time mysterious.  Life goes on for both of us, different challenges and beauties, years and miles apart.

Carl Sagan Goes to the Nutcracker

Another night, another Nutcracker.  It still amazes me that the universe transpired that we should be able to have these experiences, that the atoms have aligned on our planet, in our bodies, that we should create and perceive such a confluence of things.  Sometimes love seems complicated, but perhaps love is simply gravity.  Things come together and interact.  They change one another and are changed.  Even at great distances this is possible with time and persistence.  Seeing and hearing and feeling are miracles of the universe, and we can in turn come to understand the universe through them.  It is a miracle to watch a ballet; to hear music that I have heard many times, each time colored by my memory; it is a miracle to see another midwestern sunset, different from all others.

Home for the Holidays

On many of the streets in New York, Christmas tree vendors have taken root.  There is usually a little hut, or a tarp, or at least a stool, and one of those tubes through which a full Christmas tree becomes entwined in plastic mesh.  Some of the trees are open, some are already tightly tied, but always the smell is beautiful and green.

I'm now home for the week and as such I'm not in New York.  Walking through the Christmas trees was a mix of sinful and useless desire to have one (yes, live trees are so wonderful, but no I wouldn't even be in the apartment on the holiday), and gratitude that I could have a home for a few seconds in the middle of so many, simply on my walk to work.

And now I'm sitting looking at our family tree.  It is undisturbed by my brothers and I fighting to put our ornament on the highest branch, or arguing for color versus white lights (color won).  It is a mishmash of various ornaments collected over the years, completed by my mother's love of fiber optics with a very tasteful angel on the top.  There is the red string which has been on it as long as I can remember, the Nutcracker ornaments, and various other ones that don't even have a category in my mind, but are one with the memory of Christmas.  I remember picking them out of the ornament box year after year and putting them on the tree without really thinking about their purpose or origin, the way children do, and they have remained that way for me, even now.  They are themselves, without category or question.

I can't imagine a tree elsewhere, a Christmas decorated in another way.  The season of advent has existed on the streets of New York until now, just as it has existed in many places.  But now I'm home, with a familiar looking tree, and a beautiful fiber optic angel.

Long Term Teaching

On this last day in New York in 2015 I taught for another teacher's studio.  This is one of the most fun things to do.  I can share something and they are generally receptive to it.  There's no defense on either side, really, because we both know this is a one time thing.  If they come back to their next lesson completely ignoring everything I said, neither of us will know or have to deal with it.  If they misunderstand, no worries, they'll be back on track with another direction.  I don't have to worry about digging in to huge problems, because those will take more long term effort, though I do give some points in those directions.  Maybe they practice what I suggest or not, but they could also listen to my advice, in which case some good can come of it.  It's a win-win.

But there is also something a quite sad about having leave them, about not being able to realize or see any of what I might have sowed.  It takes courage to stick with something, because likely you will see yourself in it eventually.  But it is also an opportunity to see yourself more clearly, a chance to grow yourself and a chance to share yourself with others more deeply.  I'm hoping to start that next chapter soon, a goal for New York in 2016.

Holiday Shopping in New York

It's the season which means shopping.  Often at this time of year that means that I panic because I can't get the things that I want through the mail on time.  But living in New York, it should in theory be possible to get almost anything that I'm hoping to give.  It's simply a matter of finding it, getting there, and squishing through lots of people.  Shopping can be a challenge and certainly today the walking in the cold and the crowds of people were tough, but since New York is already that way, and Andrew was there for moral support, we made it.  It became a journey.  And along the way we found the tree at Rockerfeller and took our selfie in the midst of many other selfies.