hummers

I love living in the Northwest. These little guys, hummers as my Gramps and I say, are still around in mid-October. I didn't have a feeder last fall/winter, so I don't know how long they stick around. Is it possible they will be here year round? I love how quick they are, their long beaks, how often they come to the feeder. I can see them from the desk where I work in my home office. They dive-bomb each other, fighting for pecking order I guess.

One winter, my grandparents had one that didn't fly south (they live in South Carolina and their hummers would migrate in the winter). My Grandma named it Rambo and changed the food daily so it wouldn't freeze (the food and the hummer). She would call me with weekly updates "yes, he is still here. Can you believe it?"

I love the counterpose that happends when they perch on the feeder - when their wings stop for just a few seconds so they can eat. Have you ever heard the sounds they make? There is the vibration of their wings but they also chirp. It is fantastic.

Do you think they eat all night too?

(photo: hummer from office window, 10/13/05, canon digital rebel)

my oldest friend

six months ago today my grandmother, my oldest friend, passed away. every day since then i have missed her desperately. every day has been another day when i cannot talk to her, when she won't call, when i can't tell her that the hummingbirds are still here in October!, when i can't say thank you, when i can't laugh with her, when i can't ask her advice, when i can't call her to cry and she will say it will be okay, when i can't hear her voice or smell her or hug her...

this is my first experience with deep grief, deep sadness. this year has been the year when i began to truly understand. i lost my dear golden traveler in february, my grandmother in april, and a friend in june. a year of cracking open. a year of understanding that platitudes are never really helpful, they just make the other person feel better. and just when you think the grief has become softer, something will whisper across your heart and it will still seem unbelievable. i do the best i can. all i can do.

at my grandmother's funeral, i quoted Brian Andreas:

Landscape of the Heart

It is still so new & all we see is the empty space, but that is not how it is in the landscape of the heart. There, there is no empty space & she still laughs & grapples with ideas & plans & nods wisely with each of us in turn. We are proud to have known her. We are proud to have called her friend.

(photo: me and grandma circa 1978)

in my world

If I were in charge of the world, I would be happy with any of the following:

• I would get to vote for Santos/McGarry in November (this year, next year, 2008 would be fine)
• A woman would be President
• I would wear these all the time (or at least to the store sometimes) and no one would care

What would you wish for if you were in charge of the world?

ring ring ring

I have put a post-it on my phone. It says "Take a breath. Do you want to take/make this call?" My friend Super H gave me this idea last night after a conversation that involved me in tears, blowing my nose in her ear after I had gone from a place of calm to a place of freak-out-ed-ness (yes, may not be a word, but best describes how I felt) following a conversation on the phone with another person.

I have a problem with the phone. It is my addiction. Not so much the talking/gossiping/fun parts (which I do enjoy) but the "does the person on the other end need me to fix something" part (that part = addiction). I always answer it. Always. (That is very finite, but I do answer it almost all the time.) I/we can be eating dinner, watching a movie, on the way out the door, sleeping, in the middle of another conversation, grieving, getting ready to walk the dog, taking a nap, and on and on. I know the desire is to be wanted/needed by the person on the other end of the phone. What can I do for you? How can I help? Is everything okay? And when they say, "Is this a good time?" Oh sure I say. And sometimes it really is. And sometimes it is okay to pause a movie to talk to a friend. I love my conversations with family and friends - especially because I am on the other side of the country from many of them. But sometimes it is not a good time. I have caller-id and I shouldn't have answered. I am busy. I am having my own moment. I am getting ready to go somewhere. I am spending time with my husband. But my need to take care of others means that I don't take care of myself and my other relationships. Then, when I am needed, I sometimes may not be fully present because I am spread to thin. The reward is helping the other person, but if I am really honest, the reward is knowing that I am needed. Knowing that I am the person who will be called first. The next part is that when I express my needs (which in the moment feels very brave and something I have thought about for a long time - I think I am setting a boundary), they do not realize I am actually coming from a place of having sacrficed my needs to begin with. So possibly my needs come out as sounding like something else. Then they are annoyed, they misunderstand, they are hurt.

Yesterday something happened to cause me to think about this phone thing (again). Making calls and answering calls. Sometimes people we have relationships with trigger us in certain ways - that is what happens whether we want it to or not. And before I talk with those people (because I do still want them in my life), I need to make sure I have my own self-protection in place so that I do not accept their invitations of guilt and other things. Maybe they even feel the same but haven't realized it yet. It really is okay not to answer the phone. To sit in the quiet and not share things with another person unless you feel comfortable with how they might react. To sit in the quiet and just share things with yourself and whatever you feel is greater than you - just to tell your thoughts/feelings/ideas to the universe, the god your heart desires, your self with a capital S (as I think Oprah says). And it is okay if you cannot be the support person for another (or everyone) in every moment of your life. Just because this information age has given us so many ways to get in touch with our friends and loved ones doesn't mean you always have to be available. At the same time, it is also okay to be the person people call for support/advice/shoulder to cry on. Just make sure that you are also meeting your own needs - that you identify these needs daily so you can do a self check-in to make sure you really are meeting them. That is the key. Now if only I could remember that...

Take a breath.

Do you want to make/take this call?

the fine print reads: do you have your own self-care in place if this person wants you to drop everything for them, or if they do not react to your needs in this moment. If the answer is no, save yourself and make another choice. Leave that phone alone.

updated at 5:30pm, 10/10/05
PS - They can also leave a message.

(photo: me with my addiction, 10/10/05, canon digital rebel)

solitude

When I was little I always wanted a little fort, cave, playhouse that would be my very own. A place where I could escape from everyone and live on my own. Though, I knew I would have to go home when I needed more supplies or needed to use the bathroom or needed to take a bath. Still, I had it in my head that I wanted to live in my parents' backyard inside a special tree house or hidden cave all alone. I guess I craved solitude as early as six. I still crave it at times, but recently I have felt like I might have a bit too much of it.
This picture captures a little tiny cave created by the roots of a giant tree in the Grove of the Patriarchs near Mt. Rainier. I can imagine a little girl with a backpack filled with fig newtons, cheerios, and apple juice and carrying her brother's fischer price compass coming across this spot - "perfect! just perfect!" - and settling in for a little while. At least until she ran out of cheerios. Or until she started to feel a little too alone.

(photo: taken by j. Grove of the Patriarchs, 8/20/04)