my own tess.er

About a week ago I had the nicest revelation while reading.

Now, most of you know that I have been feeling overwhelmed with job-searches, decision making about IVF, mourning the loss of our pregnancy, etc. It has been a tiring way to be, and I have not enjoyed being so angst-ridden.

I decided to reread Madelein.e L'Engl.e's "time series", Wrink.le in Time, etc. I was on the third book, and Meg was home, and her family was loud and chatty around her. I remembered that when I read these books as a child, I was so envious of Meg's family. Even amidst the book's turmoil, I found that household comforting. Caring, parents, many siblings, interesting conversations around the dinner table. A life that involves culture, family security, discussion of ideas, work, the larger world. Things that were ignored(mostly) in our house.

So, there I sat, over 20 yrs later, rereading a scene I used to wish to be in, and I realized that I am often in a similar scene. I realized that I am lucky enough to have been welcomed into an artistic world, I even spend time working at artist's residencies. My friends are interested in the work they do, and we have the conversations of the type I used to only read in books. Conversations that part of me wasn't convinced really happened.

My life is so much closer to how I had hoped it would be, as a lonely child who knew there was more to living.

And for the first time in a long time I felt grateful for my life.

I don't have all that I long for, but I am closer to the life I hoped to live, to lead, than the life that I could've had, the life of just surviving. Hopefully, more joy will come. The distance between the way I grew up and the way I live now is momentous, is something not measured by normal means. Through some combination of luck, love, education, and ambition... I have made that journey, tessered* my own wrinkle to this present place. I am in a community, I am not isolated.


*in the books, they discuss a way to travel between time/place by tess.ering, folding time, instead of traveling linearly(which takes much longer)

learning to wait

I belong to a women's group, we are a fledgling group, just 6 months along. I have been finding a lot of comfort in our monthly meetings, especially the last 2. I hosted the October meeting, and asked everyone to bring a natural object that symbolized something meaningful in their life, as well as that ties into the season. When you want, you can find symbolism in anything, so I had a lot to say, and to draw from.

I was doing my normal, frantic, get the house and food ready dance, that I do when hosting anything, and thought "what nature item will you use?"

My garden is just steps away, but I was indoors, stirring squash soup, so I looked to see if anything was even closer. I found a poppy-head that I had brought in at the end of summer. They are beautiful, almost like a little space hut, round with a straight edge, tiny opening all along the straight cap, where the seeds are released. I picked it up and considered it, shook it, felt its emptiness, and decided I needed another symbol. I may feel empty now, but I don't want that to be what defines me.

I looked some more, and picked up a moonflower pod from last summer. They dry beautifully, and have a nice rattle to them, each pod holds 4 seeds. Each seed can make one plant that will bear 50 or more blooms, and each bloom will yield 4 more seeds. It seemed a more hopeful symbol.

I am trying to think of that seed pod, and of hard, winter squash, and other lessons fall might bring. Trying to cultivate patience, hope. Willingness to wait.

I had an interview yesterday, I liked the people, and it went well. No benefits, currently, but that could change in a few months. No guarantee those benefits would cover IF, as there are many loopholes. Regardless, it felt good to be called for an interview, to do well. I need to have faith that somehow we will find a way to try again. That our next try can be like that moonflower seed, something that bears long and promises plenty.

So, I pose the question to you: what, in nature, do you respond to? Which item would you choose, to either symbolize yourself, or your hopes?

travel, and gettingover through

I started this post two weeks ago, while out of town. I was interrupted, and clearly, didn't get back to it right away. I have missed this journal, and I think it is time to come back. I needed some time off, I think. Thanks for checking in on me.

I am in Guatemala visiting my brother. A week ago I had the thought, "Why haven't you visited him?" There have been a hundred reasons over the last 10 months to not visit my brother, TTC, no money, Work, no money, IVF and saving for it.... etc. But I saw a chance for a quick trip and I took it. I arrived Wednesday afternoon and I leave on Tuesday. (obviously, this was written there, I got home July 1)

The day I arrived we left for the north of the country. I wanted to see the Mayan ruins of Tikal. My brother had warned me, "It is not easy to get there, especially if you are just coming for 7 days." But, I was determined.

We took an overnight bus trip to get there. The bus was ok, not terrible, not great. I slept poorly(I like beds) and woke to a grey dawn and the announcement, "Flores" and we rushed off the bus.

Tikal was amazing, wondrous, magical. Temples rise out of the jungle, the vegetation is lush and powerful. It definitely reminded me of being in Greece, a similar scale to the monuments, the breadth of human achievement, the timelessness of old stone structures.

We stayed one night there(and let me tell you, that was a good sleep) and then were off to head back to Guatemala City, to get to my brother's town.

That day, we had 3 bus rides. 1 hour from Tikal to Flores, 4 1/2 hrs from Flores to Coban(both mini-bus/minivans) and then 5 hrs from Coban to Guatemala City. The rides were bumpy and, at times, very squished seating. But, I enjoyed myself. The mountains of Guatemala are gorgeous, and I was inspired to see the amazing scenery, the farms, the people on the roadsides. All of it. My neck was sore from looking out the window for hours and hours.

We met some people in Tikal who had flown there. They couldn't believe we had taken the bus, and would do so again. Part of me(the tired, sore part) agreed. But, a budget is a budget. On the busride back to Guatemala City, I realized I was happy to be on the bus. Mountains, clouds, corn growing at ridiculous angles, bright clothing on women, children bathing in mountain streams, all flashing by. I thought to myself, “If I did this again, I’d fly one way and bus the other.”

And of course, I thought of my failed IVF, and this terrible, necessary journey I am on. I have to continue. I have to go through it, I can’t take the easy route, and fly over it. I truly truly hope I will one day look back on all of this and have some measure of gratitude. But for now, the journey is a metaphor not for ivf/pregnancy, etc, but for my healing, grieving and moving through.
(started on 6/29- resumed & finished on 7/16