Fly

Found a poem today that brought a tear. “There is freedom waiting for you, On the breezes of the sky, And you ask “What if I fall?” Oh but my darling, What if you fly?” ― Erin Hanson

Canopy

Some years ago, while roaming through sacred Hawaiian sites in Iao' Valley State Park in Kaui, I noticed two trees planted decades, maybe centuries ago, side by side. Each tree was of a similar but clearly distinct species, leaning on the other, there seemed to be something intimate about these two proud living arbors. Their beautiful leafy branches were almost enjoined into an infinite branching pattern, the kind that make it remarkable for beautiful canopy photos; but most of all, for the microecosystem they had created in their shadow. There were gorgeous ferns, flowering bushes, songbirds and innumerable bugs and slugs who took shelter beneath these intwined canopies. The roots and sources of nourishment of the two trees were separate, but their purpose and effect in the world seemed shared.
It reminded me of an ideal marriage. Of two equals, growing side by side, creating a shared legacy.

It Takes a Village

Watching Hillary CLinton come back into the public eye after the devastating election loss last year to promote her new book reminded me of her previous book that I admired- It Takes a Village. I grew up in India in a family where it may not have been said aloud but was generally practiced that "it takes a village to raise a child." I spent a good chunk of the months before my first birthday at my grandparents' house while my mother finished her master's degree in another city. My brother and I spent an entire summer away from our parents once with my other set of grandparents. Annual summer trips to an uncle or aunt's house were de riguer. Some of the most important growing up advice I received was from my aunt, my mom's best friend and my maternal grandfather, all of whom were very involved in my childhood. Because I loved to read and there were no good libraries in India, on my birthday, I was sent books from every single first degree relative (and I have a lot of them) every year until I was 13, and requested alternate presents. My mom was a homemaker and did a great job of making us feel loved and always being there if we needed her. But the incredible burden of raising 2 healthy, happy, well educated children, was shared by a fairly large circle of my extended family and friends, in ways both material and spiritual. My parents did the same for all the kids of their respective siblings and close friends. In fact, my closest cousin and I shared a bedroom for 2 years so she could go to school near our house which offered better opportunities than her hometown.

I guess what I am trying to illustrate is how isolated modern American child raising is. Parents are expected to fulfill every role- parent, financier, counselor, friend, housekeeper, vacation planner, entertainer....the list goes on. Given the fragmentation of families and large geographic distances separating immediate relatives, the model I described above would be hard to implement for our lives today. Instead, maybe creating "care circles"- groups of friends and associates in similar situations- i.e. caring for children and/or aging parents- who band together their resources and time to share each others' burdens. In other words, creating a social family for those not able or unwilling to have their biologic families fulfill these roles. I think that would mark a very important shift in the way we think about community and their roles in our lives. Rugged individualism may be the "American way" but for raising children, I think it creates an unnecessary burden on parents and a lack of opportunities for kids to be exposed to perspectives other than their parents. Given that, more and more working parents in the US are admitting to burnout while "trying to do it all", this cultural shift would be a welcome change from the status quo.

Prayer for India

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high,
Where knowledge is free,
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments,
by narrow domestic walls,
Where words come out from the depth of truth,
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection,
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way,
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit,
Where the mind is led forward by thee,
Into ever-widening thought and action,
Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake.

- Rabindranath Tagore

Mirage of sanctity

There is a web of lies we spin to delude ourselves of the good in our lives, of the possibilities, maybe to ensure some moments of peace and serenity amid the storms threatening outside. But often, the hurricane winds of our inner demons tear apart the fragile threads we labored to build in a heartbeat. We spin on like the itsy bitsy spider, again and again...

We have come not to take prisoners

We have not come here to take prisoners,
But to surrender ever more deeply
To freedom and joy.
We have not come into this exquisite world
To hold ourselves hostage from love.
Run my dear,
From anything
That may not strengthen
Your precious budding wings.
Run like hell my dear,
From anyone likely
To put a sharp knife
Into the sacred, tender vision
Of your beautiful heart.
We have a duty to befriend
Those aspects of obedience
That stand outside of our house
And shout to our reason
“O please, o please, Come out and play.”
For we have not come here to take prisoners
Or to confine our wondrous spirits,
But to experience ever and ever more deeply
Our divine courage, freedom, and Light!
-Hafiz

Admit something

Admit something.

Everyone you see, you say to them
“Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud:
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this,
This great pull in us
To connect.

Why not become the one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying,

With that sweet moon
Language,

What every other eye in this world
Is dying to
Hear.

- Hafiz

The Butterfly

You have spun and spun
threads of longing and caring
a cocoon of safety
You nurtured and fed
the hope of contentment
and tenderness and warmth
The chrysalis of bonds
secure and strong
threatens to swallow you up
squeezing out the fragrance
The world as you know it is ending
metamorphosis is at hand.
Let go, dear caterpillar
of the comfort of the familiar.
You are the butterfly
fragile and soulful
Break out of your shell
and spread your wings.

Living authentically

I read an article recently about this hippie couple spending years renovating a rundown cottage in Adirondacks into their dream home- a psychedelic, kitschy paradise with a pond and acres of open wooded land that they used to host frequent gathering of their friends. The woman who was part of this crazy couple- who by their own admission, nearly froze to death the first winter in this house with no heating they bought with their life savings- made a living out of stitching rags to make clothing and selling it on Etsy. What struck me about the details of her life was that even though she had lived what was obviously a very unconventional and financially uncertain life, she seemed to be living out her most authentic self. Her aesthetic, her home, her work, her travels and her relationships reflected the values she cherished the most.
It made me wonder- do we trade our most authentic selves and the values dearest to us for financial security and social acceptance? Are the eccentric people that we know, who seem to be living their lives so much differently than the rest of their peers, on to something?