Shooting Star

Wow. I was on my balcony this evening, looking at the night, and I saw a shooting star. It was huge and red, flaming across the western sky, looking as though it were low to the ground. Lower even than the airplanes flying overhead, landing and taking off from the airport. But that was probably an illusion.

I was so surprised. I'm sure I've seen a meteor in the sky before, but I can't remember when.

I was so surprised, I forgot to make a wish.

But, it's just as well I forgot. I don't believe in wishes any more. No wishes, no dreams, no grand goals.

Sure, those things are fine sometimes. It feels good to imagine what could be, what might be, all the possibilities and then sorting through to choose the one I'd like the best.

But, I've had it with that. No more. I'm tired of the disappointments. Tired of the wishes that fall to earth in flames, like a shooting star.

The 7 Dangerous Habits of Chronically Single People

1. Eating badly because, frankly, cooking for one is a pain and fast food is, well, fast and cheap
2. Never closing the bathroom door
3. Licking the drips from the hot sauce bottle, because, after all, it's only your own germs you're sharing with yourself
   
4. Not restraining those bodily noises
5. Rinsing a spoon and leaving it out to reuse, because (see item 3)
   
6. Developing a high tolerance for dust (resulting in the side effect of a mad rush of cleaning prior to the arrival of visitors)
7. Self-indulgence -- doing whatever you want, whenever you want, spending money without discussion or consensus

PS, to whoever may come to visit: re item 3, I *promise* to buy a fresh bottle in advance!

PPS: is item 7 really a *dangerous* habit??

What a week!

The Weekly Review at Harper's published September 13th

where, we discover, reality was as surreal as any parody

Which goddess are you?

I ran across a Goddess Archetype Questionnaire the other day and decided to see how they rated me.

Out of the 7 goddesses from the Greek pantheon the questionnaire uses, it turns out that I match Persephone (underworld, mystery) by a wide margin. Following not far behind her in the rankings were Athena (career, wisdom, accomplisher) and Hestia (spiritual focus).

WAY down at the bottom of the rankings were Demeter (mother, nurturer) and Hera (wife, helpmate).

Apart from my giving, empathetic nature =) it is true that mother and wife, in the traditional sense, are not my roles.

It's also amusing to me that it's Persephone that I matched. Not because it's not apt, because it is -- very much so, I'd say. Rather, it has to do with Mictlancihuatl (Persephone's counterpart in the Aztec tradition) who I've written about before.

Nevertheless, I'm pleased to have come out on the side of these often misunderstood "dark" female spirits. Here's to the goddesses in my own personal pantheon:

Mictlancihuatl	Persephone	Medusa
More on Persephone at: Encyclopedia Mythica Wikipedia Classical Myth
	One hot mama

Dreaming 2

I had a strange dream last night.

I was falling asleep. In my mind, I was not asleep yet, but later, after the dream, when I woke up and saw it was only one hour after I'd gone to bed, I realized I had been sleeping. During the dream, I didn't realize I was dreaming.

Here's the dream I had:

I was lying in my bed, here in this apartment where I am living, in the period just after going to bed while you are waiting to fall asleep. I was lying on my right side, as I usually do. With my right arm under the pillow that my head was on, as it usually is. With my left arm around another pillow and my left hand tucked under my chin, as they usually are. Lying on the right side of the bed, as I usually do. Wearing the nightshirt I usually wear.

Things started turning strange, making me feel troubled and disturbed. I noticed I had put a finger in my mouth to suck on. (But, I thought in my dream, I don't do that! ... or do I and I didn't know??? ... could there be something like that about myself I never knew??)

Then, my ex was in bed with me. He didn't do anything, but he was there. And as the moments passed, he moved closer to me, not to "do" anything, just to be close and to be in contact with me in sleep. But, I didn't want him there! I pushed him away. He moved back. I pushed him away again, saying "leave me alone". He moved back. I continued protesting, more insistently.

Then, in my dream, I got up and walked out of my bedroom. Things had changed in my apartment. Little things... my table was "the same" but items were in disarray. Other objects in the apartment were either missing or had been moved. This was disturbing ... how had those items moved? ... how could things have been changed without my having been aware of it happening? ... who changed those things??

Then, feeling strange -- disquieted and disturbed -- I woke up.

It took some moments to realize that all of that had been a dream. In the midst of it, I thought I was awake. I'd *felt* awake the whole time.

I'm trying to figure out what this dream means, what the symbolism is trying to tell me.

Missing the intimacy and touch of a partner is a typical theme of mine. But do I really not want that? Would I reject it if it was offered to me?

Or ... did my ex, in the dream, represent a failed partnership, a bad decision in choice of partners.

Maybe I'm scared (still scared) I'll make another bad choice. That I'll end up with a messed up and disturbed life, again. That I'm afraid of the possibilities of conflict, fighting, and unhappiness.

I thought I was over those things ...

---

In fact, I am over them. I understand love. I understand possession and how to avoid it. I understand control and how to give it up. And I know how to give myself now, without giving *up* myself.

Dreaming

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who only dream by night."

Edgar Allan Poe, 1917
"Eleonora"

Rain, rain come again

It rained today ... !

It teased me a little on Monday, but the shower was so short, barely enough to get anything wet.

This afternoon it was a nice warm rain but with a coolness in its center, after a long spell of hot and dry. Uncountable moist drops drenching this parched space.

I went out on my balcony and stepped into the water falling from the clouds ... agua de las nubes, ya no en las nubes ...

I saw the droplets bead on my arms. I closed my eyes, and felt them strike my head, dampen my hair, moisten my cheeks.

What a feeling, what sensations ... so much of my world is in my head, not less real by being fueled by virtual interactions and written conversations and imagination, but still in my *head* ... without touch and smell, without the intense subtleties that the imagination can only reproduce as shadows.

In today's rain, I was given a little sip ... a small taste ... but now! now that I see how thirsty I've been, I want a full glass.

Tag you're it

Ok, not really. I mean I tagged¹ myself, so it doesn't count.

Nevertheless, I ended up here through some vagarity of my site logs, and the guy was bold enough to put this Q&A in conjunction with his resume. He invited people to copy and use, and so, I did.

---

Do You have..

A nickname? ... Not really. In high school, my friends called me Saj (from my initials - pronounced "sadge"). Lately, I'm occasionally called Sarita.

A pet? ... I've had 3 cats and 2 dogs in the past (none simultaneously), but now, no. Oops... almost forgot the little lizard George, but he's not really a pet.

A car? ... 2005 MCS PW/B (Mini Cooper S, pepper white with black top and trim)

A GF / BF or Spouse? ... No (you don't want to get me started)

Kids? ... No, but I'm enjoying watching a co-worker's son grow up, and hearing the tales of the son of my best friend.

A problem? ... Occasional deep loneliness, but I do my best to ignore it.

A motto / sig? ... There's a line that separates reality from fantasy, but it's an imaginary line.

---

What is your..

Religion? ... Some variety of intercultural paganistic gnostic-flavored awe with the mysteries of the universe

Political leaning? ... Liberal.

Best physical features? ... Hair, eyes, and an infectious risa explosiva² (yes, that's physical ... think lungs, vocal chords, brain)

Worst physical features? ... The extra pounds I can't seem to lose.

Best personality features? ... Empathy, intelligence, honesty.

Worst personality features? ... Social insecurity, expecting perfection from myself, self-indulgence.

Pet hate? ... Maliciousness.

Worst fear? ... Violence.

---

Right now..

Where are you? ... At home.

What are you doing? ... Entertaining myself.

What are you listening to? ... "Chilanga Banda" by Café Tacvba

What are you watching on TV? ... CNN, but I'm not paying attention.

What are you looking forward to? ... San Jose, CA in November.

What are you not looking forward to? ... This one work project that's gonna be a bitch.

What is the nearest book you can see? ... "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell.

What are you drinking / eating? ... Water.

---

Who..

Is your best friend? ... My cosmic soul brother David.

Do you respect? ... Honest, intelligent, irreverent people.

Do you despise? ... well, "despise" is pretty harsh, but I avoid, or at least am wary of, anyone who is dishonest, manipulative, or just plain mean.

Makes you laugh? ... Absurdity in the form of inexpected, delightful synchronicity tinged with a little of the surreal.

Would you like to spend a day with? ... My dad. Just to see what might have happened if he'd lived.

Would you like to spend a day as? ... The me I see in my head (as opposed to the me I see in the mirror). Just to see if there's actually a difference.

Would you maroon on mars? ... umm ... is there broadband there yet?

Was your childhood hero(ine)? ... I don't think I had one.

---

Who or what was the last..

Movie you watched? ... "Batman Begins"

Book you read? ... currently reading: "Aztec Autumn" by Gary Jennings; last completed: "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince"

Song you heard? ... "All Said + Done" by Dios Malos

Person you kissed? ... My ex (since I'm sure this question was intended as "kissed in some romantic way"). Otherwise, my mom

Person that made you laugh? ... Polo Jasso

Person that you argued with? ... Someone at work

Newspaper you read? ... like, in paper? the student newspaper at the university where I work. Online: The Washington Post

Thing that made you mad? ... An idiotic management decision at work

Thing that made you cry? ... A sudden, olifactory memory of something I may never smell again first hand

Band you saw live? ... yikes. That would be Marco Antonio Solís and Joan Sebasti´n a year ago. But I'm seeing Santana and Robert Plant at the beginning of October.

Accident you had? ... umm ... can't remember

---

How many..

Ex lovers? ... define "lover"

Previous Jobs? ... hoo boy, depends on how you count them. Let's just say I've been at it for 34 years (excluding the babysitting)

Scars? ... Spider bite on my right shin

Tattoos? ... none. not even fake ones

Piercings? ... earlobes, twice (each)

Pints a week? ... don't drink much. an occasional beer or glass of wine. or, depending on the company, something with tequila

CDs and DVDs you own? ... CDs. a couple hundred. DVDs a couple dozen (I've started late). But I still have some LPs, cassette tapes, and VHS tapes.

Books you own? ... Let's just say, if I had bookshelves in the form of the "normal" ones you might buy, they would be my biggest investment outside of my car and electronic devices

---

Have you ever..

Taken illegal substances? ... define "illegal" =)

Been arrested? ... nope

Fought the system? ... why bother, if you're not a masochist?

Given blood? ... nope. but I know a vampire =)

Been abroad? ... yep. but not often enough nor for a long enough period of time

Lived out a fantasy? ... yes, but only in my mind (so far)

Achieved an ambition? ... yes, amazingly enough

Had your heart broken? ... so many times, I don't think it'd survive another one

Broken someone else's heart? ... as far as I know, no, although there might have been one that was bruised a little

Cheated on someone? ... no

Fiddled your taxes? ... no. that implies there is sufficient income and assets to make fiddling worthwhile

Been in love? ... I've thought so, several times. But, in reality, just once.

Been in lust? ... Used to be, almost all the time. Now, it's been so long, I'm not sure I remember how

Stayed in the hospital? ... Nope.

---

What is the best..

Item you bought this week? ... Toe rings

Item you bought this year? ... My Mini Cooper

Thing that could happen today? ... Find out I'll have enough money to retire when I want to

Thing that someone could say to you? ... Sarah, I love you, please stay.

Present you ever got? ... Three times in the past 32 years friends have thrown me a great birthday party. I still don't fully understand why they did it, but I'm forever grateful.

Holiday you ever had? ... The month I spent traveling in August 1978

---

Favorite..

Food? ... Dairy Queen soft-serve ice cream

Music? ... The Beatles; most anything recorded in the 1960s and 1970s (pre-disco); prog of various sorts; the Mexican, Argentinian and Brasilian rock David's introduced me to; the regional Mexican I hear on the radio (how's that for eclectic)

Movies? ... "Annie Hall", "Y Tu Mam´ También", "El Callejón de los Milagros", "The Matrix"

Books? ... Charles de Lint, Tanya Huff, "Sarum" by Edward Rutherfurd

Place? ... San Francisco

TV Shows? ... I almost never watch TV anymore, even if the TV is turned on

Games? ... I'm not really a gamer. But I played Zork way back in ancient times, and I enjoy imagining worlds in Sims/Sims 2

Shop? ... Marshall Field's in Chicago, Fry's in south Arlington

Bar / pub / club ... Bear's Place in Bloomington, Indiana

---

¹ -- Tagging is when a blogger posts some questionaire like this and then names you as someone to blog about it next.

² -- A "risa explosiva" is a big, sudden, explosive laugh

Control-freak-ism 2: Flirting

Since mid-January, I've been driving this Mini Cooper S that I absolutely love. It's cute, it's fun, and it drives REALLY well.

In fact, late April, I took a trip and while I was at my destination I rented a car. They gave me a Toyota Corolla, which was fine. After all, I drove a Corolla wagon for 14 years, and then a Nissan Sentra for another 9. Man, that Corolla felt like it was floating all over the road, and I really appreciated how my MCS handles.

Then, a coworker got a Scion, and hybrids are popular topics of conversation these days. And I got curious. I went shopping for other cars .. and NOT Mini Coopers.

I got complacent, you know?

I was already used to my Mini.

I took it for granted. I got interested in looking around, asking myself "maybe there's something else out there"

And so, I went out and flirted a little. Nothing serious. Not even a visit to a car lot after the dealership had closed. Let alone a chat with a salesman or a test drive.

Just a little mental wandering ... looking around a little.

BUT .. because I looked, I found out that everything I want in my car, I already have in my Mini. And everything I wanted in the car buying experience, I got when I bought my Mini from Moritz.

AND I realized those things ... realized them actively ... ONLY because I went out looking.

So, ladies and gentlemen, don't get so worried if that special person in your life flirts a little. Chances are, he/she will only discover anew that YOU are the one they really want after all. And now they'll know it for real, not just because they remember knowing it from when you two got together in the first place.

On being a control freak

I'm going to reprint today's "horoscope" from Michael Lutin's web site
-- the daily fix section. I'm not linking to that section since, by the time you read this, what I'm going to quote will probably be gone. That's also why I'm reprinting it here.

No going on about how astrology is a bunch of hooey. Of course it is. But that's not to say there's nothing to learn there. It's like flipping a coin to make a decision -- it's not an act of giving up the decision, it's a gut-check to see how you feel about the "chance" decision the coin made. So, it's not that Jupiter has any control over anybody's life, or that the placement of stars vis-a-vis the geographic and chronologic event of your birth has anything to do with your personality. It's a way to ponder symbolism and archetype and make sense of the metaphors in your existence.

Ok, here's Michael Lutin's words for today:

It's difficult to be totally realistic and practical and keep your feet on the ground, especially when you want, crave, need and hope for a big break to help you change your life, lift you up, provide you with the kick and the push and the momentum you think you need.

So naturally you're likely to imbue a person, place or thing with powers he, she, or it can't possibly have in the hopes that this is the big one. this is what you've been waiting for.

Obviously, then, when people or opportunities turn out to be fatally flawed or just plain human, or in some way don't live up to your fantasies, hopes, dreams, wishes, and expectations, it's a letdown.

On the other hand, if you go into everything thinking it's not going to work out, then sooner or later you're going to make it so.

People have to be accepted for the human beings they are and as long as you keep your own life and don't give away all your power and put all your energy into fixing somebody who can't or won't be fixed, you'll be fine.

See, the challenge for the person who has to control everything is that they are setting themselves up for failure.

Worse, when they find these "failings" (which aren't really failings... they are just the things no one can control nor should expect to control), they have to decide ... "should I stay or should I go".

If they stay, despite the "failings" ... then they are saying that they deserve and accept failure. And it's a quick ride to misery to think that.

If they leave, because of the "failings" ... the are admitting that they were beaten by those failings (and, deep in their hearts they sense the truth ... that they're leaving something valuable behind, something they didn't HAVE to leave).

The only answer is ... LET IT BE.

Things will be as they are. You have to accept them, and let yourself see the joy and beauty and truth in them. Of course, turn and run from malicious destructiveness. Be wary of misguided maliciousness (the kind that comes when people are scared and insecure).

When you're a control freak, it's because you WANT things to turn out well.

The trick is, though, they don't turn out well unless you can let things go.

Just because you "let" things go their own way, doesn't mean they'll leave you forever. In fact, WHEN you let go, you'll find they stay around, if they were worth staying with in the first place.

How old?

I have my 49th birthday in a couple of days.

As happened as I was approaching 30 and 40 ... it's not those birthdays that felt like milestones to me. 30 wasn't so special, but 28 was ... at 28 I first had the thought that I was getting older, that I felt that the years were advancing.

And now, while 50 feels like a milestone, it feels like one *now* ... I even half wish I was turning 50 this year, because I feel like marking that age now.

I say I don't feel 49. In fact, in me, in my mind, there is a me: she has characteristics, and at moments, THAT me is the one that feels real, more real than the one that looks back at me in the mirror.

She's somewhere in her mid-30s. She's about 60 pounds lighter than I am in "this" one (the one I see in the mirror). She's got the knowledge I have now though. Except for one thing... she can communicate freely in Spanish.

Despite what I see in the mirror, some of that person does show. At least the age part. People regularly put me around 30. I've got a photo from last August where I swear I look 16. Another from last August where I could be in my 20s. I even get carded occasionally.

I used to joke that it was because I never got married, never had kids, and never had a mortgage.

But, in serious moments, I've been sure it was because I was still learning .. inquisitive, curious, slurping up with gusto whatever new things caught my fancy.

That may be what keeps someone "young", but ... aging has to happen eventually, right?

I've started to get ideas about what that aging means. Not the slowing of the body, the weakening of physical senses. Those haven't really happened to me (presbyopia notwithstanding) -- not even menopause, although perimenopause has been my companion for years now.

But I've just begun to notice other things. Not even changes in thinking ... what has changed seems to be dreaming.

Not night dreaming ... but rather the nature of the world I create in my mind.

There are things that I can no longer conjure up in my dreams.

Is that what aging is? When you can't create new worlds for yourself?

In another part of my life, the past few months have been kind of a training ground. The last month or two has been a training ground for yet another little segment of my life.

I feel like the next 12 months are a continuation of that. I have 12 months to decide what I REALLY want to do to mark the 50th anniversary of my birth.

Today, I really don't know what that would be. If I had to say, today: what do I REALLY want to do ... what would be enjoyable, fulfilling ... I couldn't answer, because I don't KNOW.

And each thing I tentatively consider trying on, to see if it will fit, I find myself saying "no... I could never wear THAT! I better look for something else"

12 months to see if I can start dreaming again.

Napping

enjoyed one of my favorite forms of napping this evening.

stretched out on the futon around 7:30, planning to read, but my eyelids had a different plan.

fell asleep ... had nice dreams! even though I don't remember any of them.

then, something woke me up ...

looked at the clock -- 11:20!! wow. I thought. I slept late this morning!

then, my eyes were drawn to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, still open after today's rain and cooler temperatures, and its open vertical blinds.

dark .... it was dark outside.

I love it when I wake up from a nap and can't tell if it's morning or night -- the same day or the next day.

Sábanas frías / Ángel de amor

You know, I can psychoanalyze, intellectualize, philosophize, all you want. But, in the end, it still comes down to this.

I want to somebody to sing this song to me.

Sábanas frías - Maná

Cómo me duele este frío,
aquí en mi cama.
cómo yo extraño tus besos
en madrugada.

Quisiera dormir amor
sobre tus pechos.
quisiera vivir amor
atado a tus huesos.

Estas sábanas mi amor
están muy frías.
ven a darme tu calor
y arráncame el dolor.

Epale.

Yo te quiero compartir
toda mi vida.
te comparto mi cuarto mi cama
y todo mi amor.

Vente a vivir conmigo amor
que mi sábana está fría.
Vente a vivir conmigo amor
que mi cama está vacía.
Vente a vivir conmigo amor
hiriendo a mis sentimientos.
Sábanas frías sin su amor

Y te cuidará por siempre
y donde quiera,
te amaré como uno quiere
a su bandera.

Yo te quiero compartir
todo, todo mi amor.
te comparto mi cuarto mi cama
mis besos y todo, todo mi amor.

Vente a vivir conmigo amor.
vente a vivir conmigo amor.

Sábanas frías sin su amor,
que dolor, que dolor.

And I need someone to sing this to me:

Ángel de amor -- Maná

Quién te corté las alas mi ángel
quién te arrancó los sueños hoy.
quién te arrodilló para humillarte
y quién enjauló tu alma, amor.

Déjame curarte, vida
déjame darte todo mi amor.

Ángel, ángel, ángel de amor
no te abandones
no te derrumbes amor

Quién ató tus manos, ató el deseo
quién mató tu risa, mató tu Dios
quién sangró tus labios y tu credo
por qué lo permitiste, ángel de amor

Déjame curarte vida
déjame darte todo mi amor

Ángel, ángel, ángel de amor
no te abandones
no te derrumbes amor

Ángel, ángel, ángel te doy mi amor
abre tus alas
deja tus sueños volar

Ángel, somos arena y mar
no te abandones
no te derrumbes amor

Ángel, ángel, ángel te doy mi amor
abre tus alas
deja tus sueños volar

Ángel de amor
pero mi amor ya nunca te derrumbes
ángel de amor
pero mi amor ya nunca te derrumbes

Male/Female

Amid my reflections and study on the topics of love, relationships, and truth vs. selfishness, wanting, having, and manipulation, I've wandered into the topic of gnosticism.

This excerpt from an essay on Valentinus struck a chord:

Valentinians believed that God is androgynous and frequently depicted him as a male-female dyad. This is related to the notion that God provides the universe with both form and substance. The feminine aspect of the deity is called Silence, Grace and Thought. Silence is God's primordial state of tranquillity and self-awareness She is also the active creative Thought that makes all subsequent states of being (or "Aeons") substantial. The masculine aspect of God is Depth, also called Ineffable and First Father. Depth is the profoundly incomprehensible, all-encompassing aspect of the deity. He is essentially passive, yet when moved to action by his feminine Thought, he gives the universe form.

"Pienso luego existo"
"I think therefore I am"
or, more precisely: By thinking it, it can become so

But, as I wrote earlier, it takes two for the thought to become existence

It's all fine that my Thought is there -- the feminine aspect that makes existence possible. But, where is the masculine aspect that gives form to the existence of that Thought?

Poor little girl
With her head in the air
There's a poorly sick world all around you

Poor horny boy
One thing on his mind
That poor little girl
He must find you

There's a whole lotta love
Shaking inside of me
And I must figure out why it's there

There's a bottomless heart
That's hooked into all of you
And it's wondering how much you care

Poor little girl
With a whole in her heart
There's a poorly sick world all around you

Poor horny boy
One thing on his mind
That poor little girl
He must find you

There's a whole lotta love
Shaking inside of me
And I must figure out why it's there

There's a bottomless heart
Hooked into all of you
And it's wondering how much you care

Poor little boy
Head in a whirl
There's a phony slick world all around you

That poor little girl
With her head in the air
That poor little boy he must find you

There's a whole lotta love
Shaking inside of me
And I must figure out why it's there

There's a bottomless heart
Hooked into all of you
And it's wondering how much you care

There's a need and desire I have
To express what's inside of me
I must figure it out while it's still there

And an endless amount of
Of a joy that you touch me with
Thought it's almost too much for me to bear

Poor litte girl

Convince me

This is "But what would it take, part 2"

Because, before I can say "yes", I have to be convinced.

And I have to know what will convince me before anyone will be able to do that.

Show me and tell me -- use words, actions, whatever, the method of communication doesn't matter, the specific words and actions don't matter -- only that they are true

• that you want to be here. not because I might say yes. not because there's an opportunity to get into someone's pants. but because it's me you want to be with
  
  
• that, at least now, you feel love for me. I don't expect promises of forever, but rather that you know, now, today, that you feel love for me
  
  
• that whatever happens, we'll still be friends the next day ... even if we find we aren't supposed to be lovers, aren't supposed to be partners ... that whatever happens, it wasn't a mistake for us to feel awkward and regretful about afterwards
  
  
• that I can feel free ... to tell you what I want without inhibition, without fear that you'll criticize, and to ask you to tell me what you want

Convince me of those things, and I can say yes to someone I love. Convince me that those are not true, and I will say no. But until I'm convinced, I can give no answer

Yes, No, No Answer

One of the rules for negotiation between men and women has to do with navigating that "first" encounter ... in the matter of sex:

When a woman says "no", she means "yes"
And when a woman says "yes", she means "right now"

I was a little dismayed to hear that, since I never learned how to play those games, and, to be honest, I don't like playing games in relationships.

I was also puzzled ... if a woman says "no" in order to mean "yes", what about when she really means "no"? What does she say then?

The answer I got was: well, she probably won't answer.

I'm not sure that rule is very widespread in the US any more, though in my youth I think it was more so.

In any case, I can see how I could be misunderstood. Because for me:

yes = yes
no = no
and "no answer" = "convince me"

Arrive without traveling

I had an interesting experience this afternoon.

About 4:30, a feeling came over me -- soothing, calming, warm and enveloping ... I felt it all around me and through me, like someone was visiting me from across the miles.

Later in the early evening, I was driving home and stopped by the Wendy's that's on my way to bring home something for dinner. It was all as usual ... Latinos at the windows, which is nice because so often I find that the Latinos I see in stores will smile and chat in a genuine way and accept my friendliness, whereas Anglos seem like they are barely there.

At the window where you pick up your food, the guy smiled and was nice, but there was a moment at the beginning of the interaction. Sort of a pause, where he looked at me and spoke. I didn't specifically hear his words, but rather I heard words in my head "Hi! You're doing ok?" ... during a moment where time was sort of suspended.

Then the moment passed, and we chatted about my car (a Mini Cooper) and then I drove away as usual.

But, not entirely as usual, because I was filled with this strange experience ... you know how truth can feel? how it's not something expressable in words, but where, deep inside, you know there is some truth?

In that feeling, someone had reached across the miles ... sending their spirit, using that chance interaction at Wendy's as a way to check in, see if I was ok, and let me know that person had thought about me.

But what would it take?

Isn't it a pity
Now, isn't it a shame
How we break each other's hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other's love
Without thinking anymore
Forgetting to give back
Isn't it a pity

Forgetting to give back ... but, even if they do give back, can we recognize what's being given?

What would it take for me to believe that I was being offered love?

There was a time when I thought it was holding hands, kissing, being willing to tell people "this is my girlfriend". But that wasn't really it. Bryan liked to hold hands, but there wasn't love there. And Jorge wasn't good at those kind of outward trappings of affection, yet, I know he felt something. Besides, I was thinking of those outward trappings in an adolescent way.

There was a time when I thought it was sex, which I suppose isn't really a surprise -- lots of girls make that mistake. I mean, when people love each other they make love, right? So, if a guy would have sex with me, then he loved me, right? Or, if not at first, if I got him to have sex with me, then he would love me afterwards, right?

ha. As we know ... WRONG and WRONG.

Flowers? Could be... I got those once and I was impressed, but nothing came of the relationship.

The words .... "I love you" ... the holy grail! You know, none of the boyfriends, not even the two partners, ever said those words to me. Even more, I've found that when it's someone you're not interested in, and who knows you're not interested, yet he keeps saying "te amo, te amo, te amo", a tiredness seeps into your being. How strange to find that the holy grail can be empty.

Yet, when a friend says "te quiero mucho amiga, cu�date" it feels like that holy grail, even though it's filled with something else.

I haven't seen the movie, but I've been told that the one valuable thing in Superman 2 was the advice: if you want a girl to fall in love with you, try poetry.

Could be ... But my response was: how do you tell if it's poetry that you should fall in love to? And not just poetry that the guy is sharing with you? His answer: "Pienso luego existo" ... think it and it will be.

Could be ... in fact, I do believe that our thoughts bring things into being

Yet ... it takes two people to be thinking the same thing into being ... doesn't it?

When I was with Jorge, I didn't think he really loved me. Toward the end, during the last few years of our relationship, I accepted that he had become accustomed to me, and even believed him during that summer in La Paz in 1987 when he remarked on how close and comfortable we were together, that he felt like we were already married.

But, living in Bolivia would have been too hard for me -- the politics, the ramifications for him of being with a white woman from the US (and it wasn't theory -- he'd seen what happened with his brother and his wife from the US). I came back to the States, and the next spring I told him I couldn't do it anymore. We had been apart since August 1985 by then, seeing each other when I would visit him, spending the summers of 1986 and 1987 with him, writing letters (no email, no MSN, in those days). But I'd lost hope ... I couldn't go month to month anymore, waiting to phone, writing letters, waiting for letters.

We still stayed in touch. I received letters until 1992. He contacted me in 1994 when his daughter was born, and again in 1997 when his son was born.

I kept all of the letters, in a box, which I didn't review although I looked in the box from time to time.

Two years ago I decided it was time, and I got the box out and collected all of the letters. Arranged them in order from oldest to newest. And started reading.

By the time I got to the letters he wrote after he returned to Bolivia in August 1986 through to the end, I knew, for the first time, how much he had loved me.

But I hadn't seen it then!

It's true, he never said it. He never really did anything that I can remember to demonstrate how he felt.

Or... maybe it was me, me who was unable to see it ...

And now, trying to say what it would take for me to believe ... I find I don't know what it is ... something to do with actions (but, not the vacuuous actions I've experienced before), something to do with words (but, not words empty of meaning)

I hope it's only true that I can't define it because there is no one who is trying to convince me that he loves me.

(or, is there, and I just can't see that it's happening?)

Las Trampas del Amor

La trampa del amor by Los Kjarkas

Gonzalo Hermosa
(huayño)

Siempre he buscado en la vida
un amor muy diferente
que comience en cualquier día
y se acabe con la muerte

El amor es una trampa
como la flor de retama
no para con sus promesas
hasta llevarte a su cama

No des vueltas al asunto
escucha mejor amigo
es mejor andar soltero
que casado y sin dinero

El amor había juntado
al lobo con las ovejas
se comío a las jovencitas
despreciando a las mas viejas

El amor que había buscado
quien diría que mi suerte
me ha dejado mal parado
solo triste y desolado

But I'm going to talk about tricks of love of a different sort.

They say when you love someone, you'll give them anything. But that is not always true.

Sometimes, giving is a trick, a device by which you strive to ensure that love will be given to you for you to take. I know, because I used to do that.

When Bryan and I were breaking up, I was ... shocked, dismayed when I learned that he'd said that he believed I'd never loved him, that I wasn't capable of loving him. How could he say that, I thought! After all I'd done! All I'd put up with! His moods, all my walking on eggshells in an attempt to avoid saying something wrong (I couldn't even offer to help with carrying a large heavy object, or it would be taken as an accusation of his inadequacy). All the ways I'd submerged aspects of my personality in an attempt to be who he wanted. Ignoring the gun that I'd seen under the passenger seat of his car. Bailing him out of jail, for christ's sake.

After he left, I cried for 2 months. But even in my tears, I realized that I wasn't crying for the loss of Bryan... I was crying for the loss of the possibility of receiving love.

And I can see now that he was right. I did not love him. Even, maybe at that time, I was not capable of loving him. Maybe not anyone.

I can see now that my goal then was not to love someone, but to have someone give me love.

As a result, I couldn't see that my own giving was not appropriate ... love is not a barter system by which you can exact a pound of affection in return for a pound of loyalty.

But also, in that time, I was unable to see that in the name of that pound of loyalty, I was also sacrificing whole masses of myself. Not until it was all over, did I realize that I no longer could answer the questions: Who am I? What pleases *me*? What do I want? What will fulfil my destiny? What *is* my destiny?

Then I met my friend David, and as our friendship grew, I found myself sharing and giving, and after a while, I realized that I was not doing those things with thoughts of "what's in this for me?" In fact, as events in his life progressed, I found that the advice and support I gave could easily be to my "detriment" ... that is, if my thought was "what's in this for me?" then I could not have given it.

What does one do in that situation? Casting it in terms of "what's in this for me", oddly (for me, given my history), never rose to my mind. The only question was, what is the right thing to do? What can help a good person through difficult times? What can help a good person find his own happiness?

All this even went to its logical conclusion, and, sort of to my surprise, I realized that I could do the right thing ... I could do what it took to show my honor and respect and love for this person. Sure, it hurt, a LOT, but the hurt was different this time.

And, as it turned out, the friendship did not have to be sacrificed.

Nevertheless, I found out that I could have done it. If necessary.

I won't pretend that I'm not much happier that it did not have to be sacrificed. But I could have.

But, more than this, I have realized, again, as I have known in other situations, things are not always what they seem. Someone can give ... even give a lot ... but it is not always giving out of love.

Given with no thought of getting something back. That's the trick of (false) love: tricking someone into loving you by giving them something... by tricking them into a position where they give you what you want.

The other kind of trick is being able to tell the difference between being given real love and being tricked into a position of giving someone what they want.

I'm not sure yet if I'd be able to tell the difference. But I'm pretty sure it comes down to honesty.

This is Love

Little things that will change you forever
May appear from way out of the blue
Making fools of ev'rybody who don't understand

There is one thing I've been searching for, and that is love. I know where this desire comes from, that I have. Sure, we are social beings. We need to feel human touch, we need to know that there is someone beside us. And those are certainly part of why I have searched. Yet the real reason is that, ever since just before my 7th birthday, I have been searching for the love that I lost when my father died.

My poor Mom ... I know she loved me, and would still if such coherent thoughts were still within her capabilities. But there was nothing in all of her life to teach her how to show love. It was my Dad who showered me with attention, who taught me how to spell my complete name and address in case I got lost, who taught me how to spell Mississippi (we lived 2 blocks from the Mississippi River).

My Mom would sing to me when I was falling asleep ("By baby bunting, daddy's gone a-hunting, to get a little rabbit skin to wrap the baby bunting in" -- I remember her singing that when my dad had taken our dog to go pheasant hunting, and I imagined that it was *my* dad who had gone hunting only to bring me back a treasure).

And it was because of my Mom that I already knew how to read when I started Kindergarten just weeks after my 5th birthday, in an era when learning how to read was considered to be a 1st grade activity. ... Well, my Mom doesn't take credit for that. She read to me every day, but she has always said that it was me that made her use her finger to follow the words on the page, which she attributes to my learning to read faster.

But, it was my Dad who showed me affection. That joyous, spontaneous affection that just is there, so that you hardly notice it -- it's just in the air, enveloping you like a soft warm blanket.

I remember it as being January of 1963 ... I don't really know the date, but I remember it as being dark, cold, winter, but after Christmas. I even seem to remember bits of the occasion: standing in the hallway, looking toward the kitchen, my Mom standing in the kitchen, my Dad sitting at the table.

"Chronic leukemia" they called it. I don't remember any of what they told me other than that. I was 6 1/2 years old ... of course I had no idea what chronic leukemia was, but I knew from that moment it was bad.

Over the next 6 months, I engaged in my first exercise of waiting for someone I loved to leave me ... waiting for a man, who I depended on to give me love, to leave me.

I was a smart girl. I learned how to do that too well.

I grew up. The boyfriends were few and far between, although I almost always had a crush on somebody. The boyfriends I did have always seemed just out of my reach, never interested in commitment. Even the significant relationships, the long term ones (if 7 years and 6 1/2 years are called long term), had that distance. Even the significant one that I still treasure, who I believe did love me in some way -- he never said "I love you Sarah. I want you to be with me. Please don't go."

Then, August of 2004 happened. It felt like an important time, and, in fact, I'd felt rumblings of the importance during the few months previous to August, but I didn't know why. A clue came when I took a trip home and visited my father's grave. I'd been there a couple of times before over the past couple of decades, but not like this -- I re-experienced with full sensory memory the time of my father's death. And as I was crying, I realized that, for the first time in 41 years, I was actually, finally, starting to truly release the grief ... the grief which, as a child, no one taught me to release ... and so, grief that I'd carried, packed safely away in a little box all those years.

Part of why I traveled to Clinton from Maquoketa on that trip was to take photos to share with the new friend I'd met. It wasn't *because* of him that I had that experience, which would open the door for the lessons I would learn over the next months, but he has undeniably played a part.

... little things that will change you forever ...

See, because my father died and left me, I've been looking for love ever since ... to replace that love I lost from my father. Then the replacing of that love got confused with the love people are supposed to have in the context of a couple, which gets confused with sex, and it all gets confounded by the fact that men and women are supposed to get married.

And ... growing up with my mother, who had no one to ever teach her about love. With a grandmother who was responsible for my mother's sad state. Without other relatives. Without somebody to sit me down and help me think clearly about what I was doing and what the results could be ...

I didn't understand that *having* someone is not the same as love. I wasn't able to see the little signs that would indicate that someone did love me.

I never even thought to tell myself "you deserve a man who loves you".... I'd just take whoever showed interest, and if I liked him ok, I'd hope and "try" to make it work.

But in that lack of self-confidence, I would get jealous. I was also imaginative, and so I'd think of all the terrible things that could happen ... think about them and worry, until finally they came true.

And then, when things did happen, it would be me who would beg to be taken back ... I never thought I could demand that he "do right" by me ... as though, it were not my right to ask such a thing.

I spent my time in those relationships waiting for them to leave ... I learned too well in 1963, that if you love a man so much, that he will leave you. I waited and expected, until finally it came true (be careful what you wish for).

And so, these other men left me too.

Those are the mistakes of thoughts and actions.

But, underneath all of that, the real problem was that I had no idea what love really is.

All I had learned was how to take love, and how to feel pain when the love is no longer there for you to take.

From David I have learned that that is not love -- it's selfishness. I've learned what real love is. He didn't try to teach me that. But it was from our friendship that I learned it.

I don't even really know quite why it was him ... well, yes I do. I like people, but, to be honest, most people are kind of boring. The reason I don't have a lot of friends -- real, close, friends -- is that I sense so keenly the distance between me and most people. Different interests, different priorities, such different ways of seeing things it's like we aren't even living in the same worlds.

But David ... sheesh ... were we separated at birth? Once before I felt that kind of kinship with another person, and that was with Jorge. Maybe we all lived previous lives together ... who knows ... (if you go in for that kind of fun speculative thinking)

But, not only was there that feeling of kinship, there were the similarities between the two of them ... interests, sense of humor, taste in music, intelligence, way of seeing the world ... as though the same spirit runs through the two of them.

And that spirit emerges into the physical world ... shook me up, a couple of photos that so much could have been Jorge ... looked like him, and even more, there was a style, an attitude that the two shared ... culminating in one evening in a shop, looking across the distance in the store and seeing David trying on a baseball cap ... the similarity was so striking it brought tears to my eyes.

Let me be clear ... Jorge might have been the love of my life (or the love of my life, so far), while David is my friend. But it's from David's friendship that I've learned what love really is.

• I learned about trust, where you realize that you will be accepted and not criticized.
  
  
• And then I learned about honesty. It's easy to be honest when you can trust that you'll be accepted and not criticized.
  
  
• And then I learned more about honesty ... it's not just telling the truth to someone, it's also actions. Was there something that I would be ashamed to admit doing, because I knew it was not the best action? And if I did it anyway, would I want to lie about doing it? If so, then I should not do it.
  
  
• I learned about acceptance. That to try to change someone shows that you do not love them. A person consists of all the pieces of themselves, their life, and their experiences, past and present. You have to accept all those little pieces, because the totality of them is the person you say you love.
  
  
• I learned that acceptance also means sometimes you have to let people go. And you always have to be ready to let them go. If you accept all the pieces of their past and present, you have to be willing to let them go out and collect more pieces .. even if it's without you.
  
  
• I don't know how I learned it, but I realized that love is not something you can ask for. If it's there, it's in the air ... for you to breathe in and enjoy and be nourished. If it's not there, it can be tempting to ask for it, but what you get is not love, but some imitation. You might imagine for a moment that it's sweet and satisfying, but the aftertaste is bitter.
  
  
• And most importantly, I learned that people don't always go away. It took me two times to learn that (August and April), or maybe the first one was just a little preview for the one that I would be able to learn from.
  

The lessons aren't over. I still have to learn to be happy in my solitude. I have to stop thinking that it's ironic that, now that I think that I really know what I need to know to share in a real relationship with a man who loves me, it is possible that now there will never be anyone.

I have to learn to neither hope nor expect that person, but also to continue to believe that he might appear.

... to appear from way out of the blue.