Yesterday & A Handful of Books

This is a different little bird taken at Jack London Square.

Yesterday I finally took a fresh air walk to the library at just the right time. I was beginning to become frazzled. My destination was the library to pick up several books I had on hold. When I went downstairs I was greeted by a sparrow nibbling on a morsel. I immediately felt calmer. Sparrows have a way of being there when I need a reminder to relax. Sparrows remind me of my grandmother—her spirit is present wherever they are. As I walked by slowly with my bag of books to return on one shoulder, I noticed a young man had given the Sparrow the morsel, and he was watching the sparrow. How sweet, I thought. My whole being grew even more calm and happy.

When I arrived at the library, I was excited to collect the stack of books that were waiting for me. I most likely will not read each from cover to cover, but I will meet their contents as best I can by reading the inside flaps, introductions, examining the table of contents carefully, and flipping to the sections that call to me most. I may even flip randomly and see where I land.

I’m excited about this collection and am going to list the titles here with my small reactions so far:

The Japanese Haiku: Its Essential Nature, History, and Possibilities in English with Selected Examples (1957) by Kenneth Yasuda.

The Bamboo Broom: An Introduction to Japanese Haiku (1934) by Harold Gould Henderson.

I am eager to learn more about the history and cultural aspects of the Haiku. I’m glad that the first author, Kenneth Yasuda, is Japanese. In his introduction he says that many questions are posed to him about the status of the haiku in English by interested Japanese each time he went to Japan and he lists a few:

“Do the English-speaking people understand haiku?”

“Do they write haiku in English?”

“Do the English haiku have form?”

I look forward to reading Yasuda’s exploration of these questions.

What We Eat when We Eat Alone: Stories and 100 Recipes (2009) by Deborah Madison and Patrick McFarlin.

I stumbled upon this one by chance when I was looking through the online library catalog. It piqued my curiosity and made me think about how I approach eating differently when I’m eating alone, but I had never given it much thought until seeing the title of this book. Now that I have the book, it has a fun feel about it with color illustrations throughout. Maybe I’ll find a few recipes that I can double for two.

OK: The Improbable Story of America’s Greatest Word (2011) by Allan Metcalf.

I was looking up another book on my Kindle when I saw this. I clicked the book, eager to find out more. I read the description and checked the library and that’s how it ended up in my hold list. I have tried to stop myself when I use OK in my writing because, frankly, I don’t always feel comfortable with how I am spelling it: Is it OK, O.K., Ok, or Okay? I’ve reverted to all right—probably not much better. But also because I realized that perhaps I was relying and overusing this two-letter word that was starting to look a little odd to me staring back from the page.

I was intrigued to learn in the introduction that these letters, OK, “were born as a lame joke perpetrated by a newspaper editor in 1839.” How interesting. I’m eager to read through this small book of about 200 pages.

Fish! A Remarkable Way to Boost Morale and Improve Results (2000) by Stephen C. Lundin, Ph.D., Harry Paul, and John Christensen.

There was a time when I enjoyed reading business books related to human relations and it was partially because of the work environment I was a part of. I loved the learning aspect of that job. I still like to browse through business books here and there, but not as much as I used to. It has been a long time since I read this small book and I came across it again when we helped my significant other’s cousin move. That’s when I became curious to revisit Seattle’s Pike Place Fish Market and the lessons learned in this book, which are succinctly captured in the book’s inner flap: “A powerful parable that will help you love the work you do—even if you can’t always do work that you love.” Seeing that book re-reminded me of how much I gained when I worked at that job of long ago and how I carried the spirit of it and this book with me. It focused me in on how I try to bring a little fun to my current job, while still working hard. Fish! truly is a gem of a book.

Group practice (2004) by Claudia Puchta and Jonathan Potter. I’m not sure what I was expecting—inspiration, ideas? This wasn’t the book, so it’s going back to the library right away.

Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss (1994) by Hope Edelman.

I learned about this book from Keiko when she left a comment on one of my blog’s and said that I might appreciate this book. Although the book is available as an e-book, I will probably buy a paper copy of the book so that I can underline and make comments in a way that is easier for me to go back to. I am looking forward to reading this book slowly. I’ve always known that there was something unique to my way of looking at the world because of losing my mother early in life, and the book talks about later loss also. But the little bit that I’ve read so far makes me feel that I will gain a new understanding of how I’ve reacted to the loss, feelings that I’ve felt, and offer a new perspective. Thanks to Keiko for the recommendation!

The Use and Abuse of Literature (2011) by Marjorie Garber. I came across this book through my daily book lover’s calendar. A few chapters are especially calling to me, “Use and Abuse,” “What Isn’t Literature,” and “Why Literature is Always Contemporary.”

There are also several books I’m pecking away at on my Kindle. One is by Red Room writer, Kaui Hart Hemmings. Several weeks ago I saw the congratulations to her for the movie The Descendants that is based on her debut novel of the same title. I was excited because it was a Red Room author and thought she must feel very proud and good inside that her debut novel had been made into a movie.

Since then I recognized her name when I noticed that one of the Kindle Daily Deals was her book of short stories called House of Thieves (original copy right 2005, eBook copyright 2011). The first story in the collection is The Minor Wars and this, Kaui Hart Hemmings tells in the beginning of the collection, is the story that was expanded into her first novel, The Descendants.  Often times, I am disappointed with how short stories conclude, but The Minor Wars does not disappoint. I look forward to reading the rest of the collection in House of Thieves and later moving onto her novel before seeing the movie. Her writing is refreshing, her dialogue is to be admired—it has a natural and real quality, and though her writing seems to have a quick beat, she weaves in just the right amount of metaphor and beauty that add pause—not too much, not too little. Her writing is crisp, clean, and lovely. Belated congratulations to Kaui Hart Hemmings!

**

Yesterday…Yesterday is today. Today is yesterday. Today is Today. When I stepped away to take my walk yesterday, I didn’t realize that the winter day would cheer me up as it did. Last week was spring and this week it’s winter. Books—though—such magical creatures full of so much. The mere title of a book sometimes will take me to an imagined world. I like questions. I need to ask myself more questions and answer them.

For the love of nature, walking, breathing—and for the love of books, sharing, writing—it is all love.





Beauty

Beauty lies in

the starkness

of bare

branches.

Jimmy Dean ~ Giving Thanks

“I can’t change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.”

--Jimmy Dean

The first time I read this quote, I knew it was for me. I came across the quote at work about two years ago on a paper towel of all places. The quote wasn’t attributed to anyone and at the time I didn’t look it up. I added the quote to the bottom footer of our team meeting agenda—good words to remember.

For the past several days the quote has been there with me, maybe because we’re heading into busy season and I’m sure there will be moments where I need to adjust my sails. But these words of wisdom will serve in all facets of life.

I typed the quote into Google yesterday to find out who said it and that’s when I learned it was Jimmy Dean. I didn’t realize Jimmy Dean was also a singer and had acted.

Here is a Youtube of his song, “Bumming Around.” This is my first time hearing this song, his first hit in 1953. I like the vibe, carefree and relaxed. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5uajVof63WM

Another interesting tidbit from Wikipedia:  Jimmy Dean was entombed in a 9-foot tall piano shaped mausoleum overlooking the James River on his estate.

I love his epitaph:  “Here Lies One Hell of a Man.”

Jimmy Ray Dean (August 10, 1928 – June 13, 2010).

Thank you Jimmy Dean for your words that seized me from the first I read them and carry me through my days when I need them.

RIP

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jimmy_Dean

Friday ~ Miscellany of Wanderings ~ Laughter and Dancing

This morning I have my metaphorical dancing shoes on laced up with passion and laughter. A stray from the classical, jazz, and Latin notes that usually breeze out of the speakers, it was time to put in high-energy music and get moving!

As usual, I’m in and out of books, certain ones pulling stronger. During my morning time, if I’m not writing, I’m reading. This week I’ve been pulled in different directions, each book shouting, read me, read me. Whom to pick, whom to pick? I love the writing of Milan Kundera. When I read his words, I feel transported and he pushes me to think. There are certain of his books that are more difficult for me to enter because of the politics and the satire that won’t resonate the same as it does for someone from his Mother Country. Nevertheless, I gain much through his penetrating mind, and his beautiful and lyrical writing. Right now, his book that keeps calling me is, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting. In fact, laughter is an activity that I cherish. Laughter and hilarity make life interesting and the ability to see the comedic in any circumstance is healing.

I’ve recently come upon a book that I was not looking for. I think I was looking for a book on language and this one came up as one that others bought. It was free and had favorable reviews. It’s not a book so much as it is an essay on laughter. I’m on page 27 of 99 by Kindle standards, so I have a ways to go, but so far—through its denseness—I am having many connections—stragglers that appear to me as little lights stringing together. The essay is titled, “Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic” by Henri Bergson. It makes me realize how much I see the comedic in life and how especially at work, even when I have my occasional moments of emotional sensitivity and overreaction, most of the time I am laughing to myself and feel that I am watching a sitcom. And often I laugh at myself too. This gets me through the day, to bring this element to the often mundane tasks of office work. I’m not complaining, just pointing out that I make the most of my time and work best when I am surrounded by laughter, even if I’m the only one laughing inside. Now, this isn’t to say that I sit and make fun of people or laugh at them all day, rather if someone has an aspect to their personality that arises often. For example, an office mate that shares the space will overhear a conversation and will insert himself into it loudly and cut off whomever was talking. For some co-workers this is an annoyance. Objectively speaking, it’s probably slightly rude, but I don’t think he’s aware of it. And here is what Bergson has to say about the comic character, “…it is really a kind of automatism that makes us laugh—an automatism, as we have already remarked, closely akin to mere absentmindedness.  To realize this more fully, it need only be noted that a comic character is generally comic in proportion to his ignorance of himself. The comic person is unconscious” (pg. 8). Ultimately, I have no problem with his frequent intrusions. It offers variety and interest to my day and it makes me laugh every time because it’s who he is and for me there is hilarity to this automatic behavior and the way that it physically plays out. Bergson further states, “to imitate any one is to bring out the element of automatism he has allowed to creep into his person. And as this is the very essence of the ludicrous, it is no wonder that imitation gives rise to laughter.” When you are in a situation day in and day out, you can either find the horrible all the time, or you can do the opposite.

I have also been in touch with my childhood enjoyment of imitating and occasionally, I do imitate and am able to invoke these moments by sound and physicality. It doesn’t happen often and it’s very spontaneous when it does. In this case, I feel that it’s harmless. This particular co-worker has a strong personality and is quite comfortable with who he is.

Now, as I think of imitating myself, I laugh. A few months back, my significant other was playing around with our iPad and when I came out of the bedroom, he was filming me. When we played back the film, I was in stitches with laughter. I didn’t realize what he was doing, even though it should have been obvious, so in the film clip my eyes kept darting back and forth and I just had so many little odd body movements as I stood there, looking here, looking there and asking, “what are you doing,” before I figured it out.

Before the music started and before I knew I was going to write this morning, what brought me here to the page was the “Trader Joe’s Fearless Flyer.” I was tossing a few old pamphlets into the recycle pile and was about to put the Trader Joe’s flyer there, when I realized I hadn’t read through it yet. I am always entertained when I read it. I flipped through quickly and landed on an image of what I assume is supposed to be a Greek man speaking with his hand held out in discourse. The caption reads, “I’m happy to have a dialogue with you about the yogurt, but in the end, philosophically speaking, it’s all Greek to me.” It may be the frame of mind I’m in today, but it made me laugh. I put the high-energy dance CD on, started dancing, grabbed my laptop; kept dancing; grabbed The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, set it by the laptop—and while I was getting the book, I saw “Goddesses Knowledge Cards,” which I discovered over the weekend when I began my declutter frenzy. I thought I had gotten rid of them. I’m so glad I did not. Still dancing, I shuffled and spread the cards out, closed my eyes and selected one: Pele the “fiery Hawaiian volcano goddess.” Perfect card for the day. “She reminds us that even in the midst of fiery eruption there is creation and new life.”

Night

The soul is cleansed
in the sleep of night. 
Each tomorrow, a new day. 

Thinking about Self-Confidence ~ Intentional Awareness ~ “Pleasant Pit bull”

This morning while I was washing dishes, thoughts were racing through my mind. I’ve been thinking about a school memory for a week or so; or rather it popped into my awareness and I wanted to write about it and then a book on introversion that I’ve been reading gave me a different perspective on my experience. I haven’t finished the book yet; that may be where my hesitation is—my experience and the book have not yet fully gelled. And so I began writing about it and set it aside and started this—started writing knowing thoughts of yesterday were on my mind— and I can tell as I type this there is that self-conscious observer right at my shoulder.

Speaking of self-consciousness. There used to be a time that I was overly aware of my every move. I still am aware, but not to the degree that I was in the past. It can be difficult walking through the world, having a conversation with someone, or just waiting in line—being fully aware of every uncomfortable feeling in that moment. I no longer think of myself as shy, though I do have shy moments. Writing has helped me to find not only my writing voice, but also my verbal voice. I have moments of meekness and I have moments of thunder. I have a line that if crossed, the lion cub growls. That’s how I see myself sometimes—as a lion cub that is capable of being a lion with a great mane. Yet, I have accepted that my nature is not the lion.

When I go to a café to order a coffee, most of the time I place my order with the meekest voice. I become self-conscious because I wonder to myself, why are you acting like a mouse? Where is your voice?!  Sometimes, I come across as confident.

Yesterday my lion cub came to my rescue. I was at work and the boss came to me in a calm but accusing manner and asked why I had filed the letter with his edits scribbled on the page and that it did not appear to have gone out. At first I accepted the error because on the spot when someone approaches you accusingly, what else is there to do? I was caught off guard. He said, “I’d like to know what happened.” I took the thick file from him and looked at the letter, and said, “So would I.” I flipped the docket over and examined it. He had not signed off, and I had not signed off that I had processed it. I said to him, “I can say that with 99.99% certainty that I did not file this. I would not file a letter like this with your written edits on it and furthermore you didn’t sign off on it and neither did I. This looks like you filed it.”

His demeanor changed when it came back to him and he realized that was exactly what happened.

Not often, but occasionally the boss will deviate from the usual processes that are in place so that things like this don’t happen. Or in a haste he may forget to transfer his notes to indicate why he didn’t actually need to send a letter out and that’s why he put it back in the file the way it was. In the end, all was fine, and I reminded him, “If your going to do something yourself, you need to make sure you document it so we know what the hell happened!”

“I agree,” he said. And he puttered off.

What this experience makes me think about is that in my job role as an assistant, something in me changes so that in more moments than not I have confidence; I speak up, I take charge. I know that this is common when you’ve been at a job for a long time, but it perplexes me to a degree that I can be one way during this chunk of my days and then another way the other chunks of my days. Throw me in a live classroom and most likely I won’t raise my hand to talk; small class group discussions won’t open me up much; if my hand isn’t raised, and I’m picked to answer a question, I might freeze. I’ll want to talk but I won’t feel a comfortable entry point because most people will already be talking and I won’t be able to get a word in—this is how it feels, this is how it’s been. And by the time I muster up the confidence to speak up, I’m exhausted, we’ve moved on. It’s done.

The exchange with my boss yesterday reminded me of how different I am at work—mostly the speaking up part.  During one of our team meeting activities, the activity was to select a question and the question was to discuss what attribute we liked about each other. I liked the question. After we all shared what we shared, my co-worker closed by saying I seemed to do a good job of keeping things moving along and described me as a pleasant pit bull. I loved the image.

In most of my jobs, if I felt comfortable in the environment, this aspect would come out. I remember another boss, whom I had a similar relationship with described me as a bulldog because I knew how to get the things I needed to do my job and help others do their job. I would keep after them, but always with a pleasant slant—firm, but friendly.

Sometimes this confidence will show itself in family settings and with those close to me. I guess I’d like to hone this in myself and to bring this confidence out in more and more settings as time goes on. It’s nice to know it’s there and by writing about my experience, it helps me bring more intentional awareness to that which I wish to work on in myself.

The House Is Still

The  house is still. Day
is waking. 

Tick-tock

The house is still. Listen to the
flowers growing.

Tick-tock, tick-tock

Whoosh

Blurp, blurp

Tick-tock

Whoosh

A small bird gently sounds into my left ear. 
Right ear perks up
to the bold  crow in the distance. 

Tick-tock

Whoosh

The house is still, 
Full of quiet sound.