On Permanence

One: I hope that they are all together up there now eating and laughing and playing cards and being happy.

Another: I don’t know if they are really people any more doing people things.

One: Oh, come on. It’s nice to think about them like that... Happy.

Another: But they already were, weren’t they? They did that already.
I think heaven is here on earth.
And it’s good that we have endings.
That nothing is forever.
That way, we enjoy it all for what it is while it is here.

Cheers to those who have gone before us and to us as we extend their lives with our own.

A Tired Girl in Norwich

Eyes floating like goldfish
Saying I don't know what
Blinking for air
Thinking aside.

Time goes like watercolor waves
Suspended like prayerflags
For a bed of my own.

Love happens just as life does
In spurts and sparks
And moves and moves
Constantly shifting
Redefining.

Eggshells cracking
Letting go of the reigns
She winks
Disassociates
Turns off the light
And readies for slumber.

The ticker of her mind
Goes through it's usual motions
Check-lists
Would haves
Should dones
Better ifs
Gears and cranks and locks and keys
Anything to rid her of the present chatter.

Wishes and wants
Travels and round the bends
Insects and darkness
Patterns on the ceiling
Shadows on the wall.

Oh how the innerworkings
Finally give way
And the earth spins round
Ever so gently
Tucking her in.

A Houseboat Called "Water Buffalo"

To witness someone's everyday. Drives and walks. The way they keep their house, dishes, desk, love, lights, towels, clocks. The way they make and eat dinner and share it with you at their table. It is a realy honor. A blessing. An adventure. A breath of fresh air...

I awake hazy, still jet-lagged to a kitchen where the woman doing dishes wears a t-shirt that reminds me she was also “Born in Buffalo.” I eat breakfast with my Aunt Doreen. Drink tea and catch up. Talk anew and reminisce.

I visited Doreen here in London many years ago and although young, I remember riding along the Thames and realizing that I was meeting my Aunt for the first time. In the place that she had chosen to live and be and work and love. Walking on her streets. Having her show me about. Free, excited, light.
She is a teacher. Aunt Doreen is. She has lived in London for twenty years working with deaf children and their families. Now, mind you, this is nearly just as long a time as she spent growing up in Buffalo. In fact, Doreen’s hard Western New York “a’s” have evolved into often upward inflecting sounds that include words like rubbish and loo as if she had always been British herself.

She, and her beautiful Tai Chi printing bloke named Albert (who I am, by the way, honored to call Uncle) own a flat in an area of London in the northeast called Tottenham Hale. They’ve built a grand life with friends and dinners and travels and seashells in the bathroom.

And she, my Aunt Doreen, without knowing it or trying to prove any kind of point, reminds me again today: About where we are from. About how to go home. To visit family. To stay connected. To make that journey and continue to love this place and that one. The people. The snow. And that these things stay with you. Not to weigh you down or run away from, but rather to springboard to wander the world and welcome you back.

Aunt Doreen is playful. Singing when biking under bridges to hear the echo, making up stories about things when I ask questions she doesn’t know the answer to. Open to hearing about all. Taking photos. Even ready to be a clown too.

She walks with Buffalo throughout the streets on London, her also home, everyday and today welcoming me home... smiling, and sharing the sites of this part of the world with me once again.

Day 4: Gratitude as the Sixth Sense

Day Three: Onto the Outskirts of Nowhere (London)

Some new experiences of the senses...

In the Blink of an Eye:
Kayakers practicing at the new 2012 Olympic site:
Lee Valley White Water Center.
People are already practicing and watching.

Within Ear shot:
The bells on our bicycles as we needed to pass people by along the canal path
during our 20 miles bike ride!

Nose Sniffing:

Frankincense burning at the Ethopian restaurant when having coffee.
It smelled like Catholic mass.

Hand Grazed:
The handle on the gate of Cheshunt Lock.
They push these open to let the houseboats through.

Still Savoring:

Banana fudge from Scotland that my aunt brought back from her trip last weekend.
I don't know that it helped my jet lag or not.

New Words:
"Trumble along to the calf" - Uncle Albert
...or "Get off your laptop and let's get there already."

Just Met:

Richard, a tai-chi-ing graphic designer, from Australia.
Lindy, a tango dancer, from South Africa.
Between us and my Uncle Albert four continents were represented through dinner.

And on my way...

Some Guidelines for Exploring the World

Let everything be your teacher.

Be ready to raise your eyebrows a lot.

Don't take anything for granted.

Never worry about smelling bad.

Send a postcard or letter to someone who hasn't been lucky enough to go to the places you are.

Remember how different and the same we all are.

Day Two: Tottenham Hale, London

In the Blink of an Eye: Houseboat anchored to the bank of the River Lee
Within Ear shot: Coot (bird) asking me not to come near his newborns
Nose Sniffing: The perfume from a big tree with bright yellow leaves
Hand Grazed: Green paint chipping off bridge overlooking a canal lock
And Still Savoring: Rosemary and thyme brined chicken Aunt Doreen made for dinner.

Fear

A funny thing

Eh

That

Taking us unknowingly by the hand

Leading us somewhere we didn’t

Nope

We didn’t quite want to

Want to go

Or perhaps

Maybe

Making us sit down

Down

Down

When we had meant to stand up

Up

Up

Convincing us outright

To run away

Far far away

From the one we love

So sorry

Or battle a country we had thought as friend

Too bad

We can

Yep

Unwrap it like a candy

This fear

Give it a taste and go on our way

Yum

Yum

Or turn it into a ball of

Of

Of

Twisted rubberbands

Overlapping

Colorful

Beautiful even

Oh the stories we can tell ourselves

Tangling us with tension all the live long day

Long

Long

I’m afraid you will leave me

Also scared that I’ll get sick

Then what

Whispering

I wish I wasn’t alone

Or that the garbage truck didn’t come

Or that detour

That president

That

This

That

But no matter what or where or how

Yes

Yes

Yes

We can calendar

And tailor

And tuck in

And be on time

We say yes

And I do

And go team

And then go

And then go

But when do we sit

Looking straight into the

Vast or the little of the I don’t know

Before

Aw man

And oh shit

And wait what

Panic ensues

And we fall in love with the freak out

Out

Out

The pattern

And how could she

And why would he

And then what

What

What

What if

Or if

Or if

Okay calm down

Turn on the music

Have a glass of wine

And welcome this thing in

This fear

Good evening gorgeous

Greet it at the door with open eyes

Joke and give it a wink

And converse

Freely

About the tricks of the trade

And at the end of the night

You know

I know you

So

What do we have to lose

So

And so and so.

Thank you to all of the folks who listened to me go on and on the day before leaving and got me on that plane.

Day One: Arrival into Gatwick, London

In the Blink of an Eye: Rose Just Outside Aunt Doreen & Uncle Albert's Flat
Within Ear shot: Joan Baez 1960's Album (in response to her love affair with Bob Dylan)
Nose Sniffing: Leather journal brought to me as a present from Hong Kong (thanks, Steve)
Hand Grazed: Blue pole on the Underground (along with three other hands)
And Still Savoring: Mint offered to me at landing by a British man across the aisle

And so I write

Not for me or for you

But for all of us

And even then

There is more

So I write

Just to write

To feel the way

My fingers bump the keys

To understand better the passage of time

If only a little bit more

To take the clouds upon my mind

And turn them into shapes here

Upon this page

Do not be mistaken

This is not life

Life happens

It exists in the turn of a page

The about to click on your mouse

The moment at the top of your breath

The air before our hands do meet for the first time

And there is no way to capture that

But just to smile in the almost

And find how to continue onto the next…

Thank you for reading and sharing in the start of this journey.