Future song

My dear friend Megan visited me this week in Alamosa and reminded me of how we used to play a game.  I'd write a poem/song lyrics each Thursday, and she'd set them to music by the following week.  We'd get together to share the music and start the cycle over anew. 

We went to Milagros coffee shop, which has a policy of serving free coffee to patrons who play a song on the piano.  She surprised me by playing one of our co-written songs, which inspired me to start sending her lyrics again.  Here is this week's installment.  I'll post a wave file of the audio when I get it.

It's ok to be a little ridiculous Soulfully exposed Sap is rising Full of love Lots of thoughts spinning in my head Desires Beautiful people Exquisite restraint Fingertips brushing against each others' Eyes meeting So close I can smell his hair, his hat Almost can touch the curve of his spine His hair curls at the nape of his neck Sunlight marks highlights Breathe deeply. Inhale. Smiles and kindnesses and jokes and compliments. And complements--completing things. Move wordlessly. His silhouette standing with his weight over one leg hand reaching absently into his pocket, one fluid motion. Producing the tool needed for the job Hands smoothing over the surface His tongue working as he concentrates, licking his lip. We do things the right way. Even if it takes more time is more expensive is overdone. We give each other the gift of our time. These acts of service, words of praise and Encouragement. We catch up. We reconnect.

Bee Girl

My idea for a graphic novel...

Mild-mannered beekeeper is stung by one of her bees and develops super powers.  The super powers include the ability to build community through better communication and shared resources, helping people recognize we're all connected in this big hive of life.

Gah.  It is already written: Invasion of the Bee Girls (1973)

Detachment and Entanglement

I spent part of the week at a conference on "Engagement:"  engaging our students, engaging faculty to connect with students, engaging the academy with the community, engaging scholarship with solving "real-world" problems.  Now I don't want to go to grad school anymore.

More importantly, I thought about other senses of engagement, including romantic entanglement.

I've been choosing activities and communities that validate detachment:

1) Work.  Work, work, work.  If I'm willing to work weekends, work at night, work through crises, I'm hired.  Or not fired. 

2) Travel.  If I'm far away, I can't be expected to pick up the sick kid from daycare, etc.

3) Relocate. If I live 1000 miles away from family, I'm not expected to get entangled in day-to-day drama.

4) Head space.  If I live in my head, I can justify just about any behavior to suit my wants.

And then there's Charles.  Charles.  Charles said to me, "Karen, a significant relationship makes life experiences relevant.  We need a special person to share our lives with, to celebrate our accomplishments with." 

Damn. 

40

I just turned 40, which means I survived my thirties.

It was a good decade, and I see the beginnings of another on the horizon.

Things I learned from my thirties:

• I turned 30 in Fall 2001, in the months just after "September 11th." I was working at a Muslim school in Aurora, CO that year.  I learned a lot about Islam that year as well as the extent to which Americans can scapegoat a community.  I learned about a culture that valued teachers and that showered us with fabulous feasts.  I also learned something about myself: even though every member of my family suggested I quit working at that school, I decided to continue to work with the children, that I wouldn't make a decision based on fear for myself.
• In 2002, Kevin and I married, perhaps to make our relationship acceptable to the catholic school who had offered me a job that spring.  Perhaps not the best decision I've ever made, but certainly my relationship with Kevin and his family deeply enriched my life, and I am grateful for the many years that we were together and our continued relationships today.
• In 2003, Kevin and I divorced. And got back together, and split up and got back together again.  It took me a while to learn that lesson, and we split up for good in 2009.
• In 2004, I began my entrepreneurial years.  I started an editing business and volunteered public relations work for The Other Side Arts, a non-profit art center based in Denver. I learned a bit about managing a non-profit through order and chaos, and learned even more about how to frame my own experiences in relation to others' professional needs, ie self-promotion.  I saw myself as a contractor to the colleges where I taught, rather than as a faculty member, as I was "full-time/part-time." I also realized this freed me to think of myself as a freelancer to multiple agencies, multiple colleges.  I also took advantage of learning as much as I could through my social networks and the professional development opportunities that were available to me through the colleges and through CANPO (Colorado Association of Non-Profit Organizations). I started having monthly lunches with inspiring women entrepreneurs. It was a stimulating growth period.
• In 2006, I learned doing 'scary' things with other people makes them less scary.  Kevin and I moved to the San Luis Valley in Colorado, something I had wanted to do for a long time.  We made the big decisions involved in uprooting our lives from one area to another.  I'm grateful to him for doing that process with me; I can't speak for him, but I certainly acknowledge that I'm a better person for having made the move.  I've experienced the blessings of stability as I've grounded myself in my new community.  I think I would have been too afraid of the risk of moving as one person, with one tentative income. Thank you, Kev, for being with me during that time.
• In the five years I've been at Adams State College and in the Alamosa area I've grown so much professionally.  I've had the time and resources to research and test best practices in Developmental Education.  I've learned more about writing grants.  I've developed habits that promote my overall health including daily walking and yoga and eating healthier.  I also carve out time daily for writing and reflection.  I bought a home. I make music and spend time with dear friends.  I stopped coloring my hair.  I snowboard regularly.
• I see family on my own terms.  I'm not afraid of losing their positive regard. I'm getting better at owning my competencies, talents, gifts.  I'm getting better at listening for my 'voice.'

What I anticipate my 40s will bring:

• graduate school
• writing projects
• more memories of good times with family and friends