The Joy of Flying

“Cabin crew to your stations for takeoff.”

Even after 28 years of being a loyal patron of the airline industry, the announcement for cabin crew to take their seats never fails to evoke a thrill within me. After all, the captain’s request for the crew to be seated is usually the final announcement before the aircraft’s exhilarating rush across the runway and graceful leap into the sky.

Some days ago, on a flight from Delhi to Mumbai, I thought about my fascination for flying. What is it about flying that captures my wonder so much that no matter how many times I fly, I still look forward to the next flight? I mean, it’s not like I’m new to flying or anything. My first international flight was barely a few months after I was born, and that was the first of tons more to follow, across cities and even continents.

I’ve flown so much that I recognize all the mechanical sounds and events that now seem routine during a flight. Like the wheels wrapping up after takeoff and being lowered down when the flight is cleared to land. Or the bright beam of light that comes on below the plane shortly before it makes a final descent towards the airport at night. Or the extension flaps that miraculously grow out of the wings as the plane negotiates its landing in stormy weather. Not to miss that very slight but noticeable drop in altitude accompanied by a lowering of the engine noise about forty minutes to a half hour before we’re due to land, that tells me we’ve begun our descent even before the seat belt sign is turned on and the descent is made official.

I have a feeling that if studying Math and Physics weren't pre-requisites, I might just have become a pilot!

But back to my pondering on the reason for this fascination. What is it that still makes me pine for the window seat, like a child sitting in a plane for the first time does? I’ve begun to acknowledge that flying is a deeply spiritual experience for me. And that’s why I love it so much. That’s why I would choose a flight over a train ride, any day. It’s the whole deal of flying away from the world, up into a realm where all I can see is an expanse of “nothingness.” Where the shades of blue always make me gasp with wonder, and the multitude of pink and orange hues painted across the evening sky elicit that familiar “wow” reaction from me, every single time.

As I look out the window, I am reminded of the greatness of this Universe. Of how much there is to it, and of how small our world really is, in the larger scheme of things. Out there in the stratosphere that we are racing through at 800 kilometres an hour, I see a realm that we humans cannot occupy with our ugly buildings, and pollute with our plastic trash. Finally, a place reserved only for the Gods. Well, and for planes too! This is a realm of the Universe that is so close to us on Earth, yet, so very still. Such a contrast to the restless lives that we lead down below.

Stillness… what I attempt to experience during my meditation sessions. Now here it is, right outside my window.

As we approach Mumbai, we’re greeted by huge monsoon clouds. At first, the clouds look like isolated clumps of cotton candy and we rush in and out of them within seconds. I look into the distance, and see a cloud float past in the shape of an angel. She’s lying on her back floating through the air, gleefully playing with fluffy lion cubs who sit by her side.

I am humbled. Reminded that I am a guest in the realm of the Gods.

As I continue to look ahead, I see a dark grey cloud hurtling towards us. I turn to Saraswati who’s sitting beside me, and I announce to her with a very serious face, “We’re heading for some serious clouds.” My obsession with the goings-on outside the plane window has always baffled her, ever since we were toddlers flying on late night Emirates flights from Dubai to Mumbai way back in the 80s. While I preoccupy myself with angels floating outside the window, her meditations are with her books that she voraciously reads on flights.

Our plane leaps into the “serious” cloud cover. We’re tossed around for a bit, and then “Shoom”… the cloud is gone. Just like that. There’s sunshine again. I turn to her and clarify, “Never mind, it was just a passing cloud.” As I hear myself say that, I smile. I love the little insight that I just stumbled onto. The “passing cloud” metaphor that we freely use for life’s experiences couldn’t have made more sense than it did right now.

“Crew to your stations for landing.”

The city of Mumbai beckons to us from below. As the plane descends into this great city, I am reminded that our holiday has only just begun. Yet, as I return to the bustle of Earth below, I feel like a part of the holiday has just ended – the part that took place up in the heavens.

(Also posted on my blog)

Introducing: "Pay it Forward Fridays"

At the suggestion of a new blogging friend, I have been inspired to include a new meme at A Dose of Positivity.  A "meme" in the world of blogging is another catch-phrase for creating a specific theme - usually one specific day of the week -  devoting the posting for that day entirely in support of the meme's message and purpose.

Kelly at Blue Frogs Legs initiated a most wonderful idea for Fridays - "Pay it Forward Fridays."  Being a devotee of the novel, movie and mantra of the same, I couldn't help but be drawn into her idea and dream for this movement to move into more of the blogging world.  We bloggers have so many ways to touch the hearts of many, and whether we write about family life as mommys, review books or movies, keep travel logs or anything, I think we can all agree on one thing...random acts of kindness - in any form - when paid "forward" are contagious, and now within the world of cyberspace, we writers have infinite possibilities to touch lives the world over!

I have touched on this "theory" several times in past postings, (see "Smiles - At A Bargain" ) and usually try to incorporate a message as often as I can on how very simple things can make a huge difference in another person's life.  Seeing Kelly's post and new idea was a "light-bulb" moment for me, and I'm honored to take up the challenge. 

Recently, a very close and personal friend of mine was presented with an opportunity to actually put this "theory" into practice.  About a week ago, my friend had stopped at a convenience store/gas station within the city to purchase gas and some snacks before getting on the expressway for his long ride home from work.  As he was leaving the store, heading back to his car, a man who definitely appeared to be "down on his luck" came up to my friend and asked him if he could spare a little money, because he hadn't really had anything to eat in a while.   My friend knew by looking at him, and the tone of his voice, that this man was probably truthful.  Quickly looking around, my friend noticed a fast-food chicken restaurant directly across the street, and made a quick - yet monumental - decision.  Telling the man to get into the passenger's seat, my friend then drove him across the busy road to the restaurant, where he took the man inside and purchased him a full meal.  He left the man inside to eat his meal in peace, never knowing exactly just how long it had been since this humble person had actually had a meal.

I've been thinking about my friend's experience for quite a few days now, and reading Kelly's post, I knew that I could finally write about this amazing little story of generosity.  While I won't embarrass my friend by posting his name, I have to say how proud I was to hear of this story, and how grateful I am to personally know someone of this caliber - for it really did happen, and I know deep within that at the moment, my friend wasn't even thinking about the "pay it foward" movement - it trully was a random act of kindness.  Moments like that are usually unexpected, but when we are faced with them, they not only change the outlook of the recipient, but in the blink-of-an-eye, they change us.  Sure, many people might walk away thinking in "today's world" such an act of faith would be very risky...would you, when faced with a similar dilemma, invite a seemingly homeless stranger into your car, even though it's only across the street?

Maybe most of us aren't presented with opportunities such as this to perform such a selfless act, but all of us are usually given many moments where we have an occasion to share something. Usually, it doesn't even have to cost us anything - as I've posted before, sometimes taking the time to offer someone a handshake, welcome or smile, can mean so much more....  why does this seem so important to me?  In a nutshell, I firmly believe that continuing to pass on a spirit of kindness - of any kind - offers us hope.  All of us, when on the receiving end of a selfless and generous deed know that there is, indeed, still kindness and love remaining within the world.

In this spirit, I would like to begin posting examples on Fridays of those who have "paid it forward."  Ways other readers are - or have experienced - paying it forward, and even notes on how I, myself have strived to exercise this belief.

I sincerely hope that you will join me and my new friend Kelly in promoting the dream.  One blog, one story at a time, each of us can make a difference for positive change within the world! 

"Carry out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you."

- Lady Diana

Looking for ideas, additional thoughts, stories and inspiration on how you can get started?  There are many links to visit on the Internet, offering tons of suggestions, tips and information.  Here's a couple to start:

The Pay It Forward Movement:   http://www.payitforwardmovement.org/

The Random Acts of Kindess Foundation: http://www.actsofkindness.org/

And be sure to check out Kelly's blog at:  http://bluefrogslegs.blogspot.com/2010/05/pay-it-forward-fridays_28.html

I look forward to sharing some memorable and inspirational moments with you on "Pay It Forward Fridays!"

Pay it forward - spread a smile!

Photos courtesy of Google Images.

Middle Class Parenting

This weekend we were burdened by that most thoroughly unwanted of guests, the class teddy. You know the kind of thing. Most classes have them these days, a teddy of some description that travels around from home to home, spending qual ity time with their classmates!

They always come with a diary that must be fi lled in, to detail the toy’s visit into your home. This diary lets your teacher, and all your child’s friend’s parents know what kind of a parent you are. This book is a complete assessment of each of the children in your child’s class, allowing the parents to decide which of these children are worthy of being a friend or potential future partner for their young charge.

Or at least that is what you think everyone is doing.

The pressure is on.

Last time Sydney Duck came to visit I wound up in trouble. It had been left to me to supervise my son, Daniel, as he wrote the diary. I had also been left in charge of the boys on the day of the visit, because my wife was out at a meeting or playing netball or drinking (I forgot to listen when being told what she was doing so cannot be accurate I’m afraid).

The result was this…
“Sydney’s Diary – Daniel’s house, 10^th April 2010

We came home to Daniel’s house and were going to watch Doctor Who on TV, but Daniel’s dad had accidentally deleted the recording so we watched Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines. Daniel’s dad had missed the end off the recording so we watched Star Wars instead. Then we had Dominos Pizza for tea and watched Pulp Fiction while eating sweets for pudding.

At bed time Daniel and his brother kept getting into trouble for jumping around on their beds, hurting each other and saying rude words. Daniel’s dad kept saying his prayers. I think he was worried about something, because he kept saying ‘Oh God’ a lot and ‘She is going to kill me’. Eventually we got to sleep, but were woken up in the night by a lot of shouting, Daniel’s mum was upset about something but we couldn’t quite hear what – though I think she must have seen the film too, because she knew a lot of the words from it.”

Some of the other parents have been giving us some funny looks since that, and I notice Daniel has not been invited to many birthday parties this year.

My wife pointed out that we are supposed to be middle class and therefore we have to get the diary right – we must try harder next time! The rest of the class must see how wonderful we are at parenting!

And so this time when Sydney came to us for a whole weekend, I have taken no chances.

I wrote out his diary entry on the computer, printed it out and stuck it in the diary, pretending that Daniel had done it (middle class point number one – has access to an IT suite and can use it, check!)

As I believe that I am not the only parent that has suffered this kind of pressure, ensuring that your parenting skills are shown to their best potential within a school teddy diary, I have decided to copy the entry out here for you to use. You will need to change some of the names and details in order to make it personal, otherwise I think it should cut and paste into your life fairly easily.

Of course, it took me quite a while to write it, so the boys were downstairs watching TV for ages. I don’t know what they were watching but the smile was wiped from my face earlier; Daniel cut short the conversation on his play phone, slamming it down and saying “That was my HOE Dad, giving me earache again” I assume he must have been watching a gardening programme.

I can declare that it has worked; word has clearly spread even further than his own school friends. After only three days we have received an invite to Charles Rossiter-Smythe’s birthday party. I’ve been a bit puzzled, because the theme for the party is “boarding school attire”? I’m going to make him an Eton Mess pudding to take, that should cover it.

Any way – please use this if needed…

“Sydney’s Diary – Daniel’s house, 16^th May 2010

This weekend I went to Daniel’s house. I was immediately impressed by the cleanliness of the house. The bathroom was particularly clean. The large Schuller kitchen shone beautifully, its contemporary design somehow complimenting the traditional look of the large Aga in the corner.

The boys immediately changed out of their uniform and went out in the garden to play. Daniel’s dad came out and we all played a game of ‘times tables catch’ where if you dropped the ball, you had to recite the times table for the number of bounces before you picked it up. It was such fun.


Later (as the organic, locally produced beef casserole was cooking in the Aga) Daniel’s Mum came out and sent us on a crazy garden hunt. We had to find an insect each, bring it back and then discuss the pros and cons of the creature. Did it help the garden in some way or harm it? Then we had to write about it in our garden hunt diaries before letting it go. It was such fun.The casserole was delicious and the Kumquat and Lychee dessert was amazing.

Afterwards, we helped load the dishwasher, and I helped Daniel do his homework before playing chess.

At bedtime, Daniel’s dad read us some poems from a book about saving the whales (I had no idea that humans had been so terrible to these mighty mammals, it really made me think).

On Saturday, we all went for a long hike around the countryside, discussing the flora and fauna as well as the wildlife in the area. Occasionally, if someone said a new word, Daniel’s mum would shout “spell it” and we would all laugh as whoever it was had to try and spell the word. We went up one hill and could see that on one side the land was beautiful and covered in trees, but on the other side the terrible decay of commercialism and greed had ruined the view with power stations spewing smoke into our atmosphere. The harm this was doing was all too apparent, as the roads and houses spread evermore towards the countryside on the other side of the hill. The sight of this really made me think.

On Sunday, after church, we went to help clear up litter on the council estate. We all walked along with bags and filled them up with rubbish. The poor people on that estate don’t have bins like normal people do so they have to throw their food wrappings out of their windows I think. I don’t think they noticed us doing this because their 50” plasma TV’s had the football on; Daniel pointed out that if they didn’t spend all their money on TV, cigarettes and beer, they would be able to afford to come on school trips and pay for their own school dinners without using the vouchers. This really made me think.

In the evening (after a delicious Ratatouille and fair trade chocolate soufflé) we played historical charades. You had to pretend to be someone from history. Daniel was Neil Armstrong, and his dad was Oliver Cromwell. We all really laughed when Daniel’s mum pretended to be Emily Wilding Davison, throwing herself under the King’s horse. It was such fun, but it also really made me think.

At bedtime Daniel’s mum did some fun maths flash cards with us instead of a story, we really laughed as we did the sums.

Later, when Daniel and I got up in the night to go to the toilet we heard Daniel’s mum preying again, but unlike at church, she was really shouting “God” and “Jesus” with passion. She must be very devout.

I really enjoyed my stay with Daniel; and, as we sat in the four wheel drive for the half mile distance back to school, I hoped that I would be back soon, because it took ages to stop itching after I went to Wayne’s house that time, not to mention the boredom of just watching that big TV all weekend!”


Also posted here by http://www.glenslife.com/

Watermark risen

Given the fact that I am a writer, some people may be surprised to learn that I am a very private person. After all, here I sit on a regular basis, tapping out my innermost feelings to be published on a blog that is readily available to anyone in the world...a mere click of the mouse away. Writing those innermost feelings for the eyes of so many 'out there' is a curious interplay. Yet, I am very self-contained when it comes to revealing details of my private life. There are lines that I feel are necessary to be drawn for all of us, with each person having their own personal watermark that is to remain sacrosanct.


For the most part, in social media forums such as Facebook, Twitter and this blog, you will rarely hear me reveal truly personal details about my life. I am happy to share stories from my childhood, and also to open up about topics and experiences that touch me deeply. I feel this is my way of fulfilling one of my life's gifts, which is that of healing. Again, for the most part, you will see me post very positive, uplifting blog articles, Facebook and Twitter posts. While we all have difficult days and negative experiences, I strive to see the positive in every moment and every person.

Today I had a personal Waterloo moment. It was a situation that I have alluded to in recent blogs, (Tend your bucket!) about an individual that I labeled an emotional vampire. This was my way of exercising the frustrations I had about this person. My nature is to forgive, so much so that it can become a detriment. I forgive, I understand, I sympathize, I lift up, I encourage....and in the midst of all that kindness, I overlook the fact that I am allowing another person to literally bleed me empty.

Please know that I am not suggesting that forgiveness is wrong or foolhardy. I will never truly change in this regard; I am a loving, caring, nurturing Soul and this is intrinsic to my nature to see the good and positive in others. However, there does come a day where it is graphically demonstrated that the kindness doled out has been gleefully, and most likely, selfishly consumed while the recipient of your care is laughing at your foolishness.

My watermark has risen. I weathered a very unpleasant experience today as the result of trusting someone who did not deserve that grace. I admit to struggling with the resulting fallout. I was angry, disappointed, disillusioned to a degree...with all of these emotions self-directed. Why did I aim all of those emotions at myself? Because I knew better.

Stepping completely outside of my regular comfort zone, this is what I wrote on my Facebook page:

You know that inner voice that tells you a situation is shady, as well as the people involved, yet you try your best to see the good in all involved? Trust the inner voice FIRST, and avoid the inevitable drama and disappointment in the whole dynamic. People do show you their true colors, and sometimes those colors are weak & lacking in depth and substance. #Lesson Learned

My lesson here is to forgive myself first, this other person next, and move forward with no intention of allowing this person back into my life. I can count on one hand the number of times I have come to this point in my life. It is a sad moment to truly cut ties with someone that you genuinely cared about. It is a death of expectations, possibilities and hopes, if you at one point had intentions for a strong friendship to grow and endure.

I had no idea how people would react to the Facebook statement above. It was out of character for me to the extent that I spoke of a negative personal situation. Hours after posting it, I came back and was surprised to see the response to the post. Thus far, there has not been a single negative comment. To the contrary, every comment was positive, uplifting and supportive - all true examples of people that I am blessed to call friends. This tells me that I was right to follow my instincts with the Facebook post. It also reminds me that this very instinct is sharp and clear; I need but to pay attention to that still quiet voice in the future to avoid similar negative experiences.

I cannot fault myself for wanting to see the good in others. This is actually a trait that I am happy to own. I will continue to do this, live my life this way, and continue to give more second chances than most people probably merit. I say this with a smile, now, hours later in the day when my own heart has lightened from the wonderful support of true friends. I can't change my own true colors, but I can recognize when those around me are displaying conduct and behavior that is a screaming, neon, flashing warning sign. True colors are displayed in abundance if we're willing to recognize them for what they are.

My personal watermark has risen. I have higher, more stringent standards for allowing people into my life. While this may sound judgmental and strident, it really isn't. It is me making a choice to honor myself first. This can be a difficult lesson to learn and embrace, and I daresay I will struggle with it in the future. Today has made a permanent impact and this time I am making changes that are equally permanent. Forgiveness is a conscious choice....for myself as much as for those with whom I have negative interactions.

The beauty of this experience today is that I have shed the weight of a fully grown person who was dragging me down on a regular basis. I have shed the negative emotions of someone who is motivated by selfishness. I have shed the need to feel responsible for a great number of unnecessary ties. The conscious choice to forgive and move forward, while also excising someone requires a lot of contemplation. It is not a choice made easily or with haste. It is, in this instance, necessary and I am at peace with it.

As we all know, when one door closes, God/Universe opens another. When one person exits, that space is left open for a new, beautiful energy to come in. The repercussions of today's events have some ripples. I will be dealing with those ripples for a while, but the wonderful thing to recognize and remember is that this door is wide open. This means that my life and my expectations have no boundaries.

There's another old piece of wisdom that tells us,

            Water seeks its own level.

Another way of expressing this concept is that there comes a time when vibrations no longer match up. In essence, regardless of the dramatic tone or lack thereof, people will vibrate themselves out of your reality. Sometimes we're the ones left behind. In this situation, I am the one doing the walking away. This is not done with a light heart, as I never enjoy breaking ties with someone who once mattered a great deal to me. It is done, however, with a sure heart, and perhaps that is the stronger part of this particular lesson. Of a necessity, I have looked at my own culpability with this situation. I knew better. I knew better months ago, yet I continued to offer those second chances. I wanted to believe that the spark of beauty that I know resides in each living, breathing being was burning strongly enough in that person to eventually negate the unpleasant traits that I didn't want to look at.

While I cannot speak for this person's interactions with anyone else, what I know now is that the interaction with me has been predominantly self-serving. Even as I write this, it pains me. I could revert to habit, forgive and give another chance to this person, but this time, I am walking away. Forgiveness isn't a question here; I will get to that point within a few days. It isn't in my heart to harbor grudges and simmer in resentment and ill feelings. That will do nothing but bring harm to me in the long run, while this other person will blithely go on about their life, not sparing a thought to the repercussions of their actions. I need to implement an equally purposeful action in my life with this decision and move forward with the assurance that I am better for this experience and better for making this choice.

It is curious that I've used water analogies throughout this blog. Water seems appropriate to apply, as it can exhibit physical manifestations of emotions - we call them "stormy seas", or placid, calm, quiet, tempestuous, soothing, peaceful, angry. All descriptive words that can be applied to relationships and behavior patterns. I rode some stormy seas with this whole situation, and today I can admit that much of this could have been avoided had I heeded my intuition months ago and cut ties. I didn't do that, choosing instead to give more chances. That bit me in the end.

Today, with several hours of distance from the actual unpleasant event, I am sitting on the proverbial dock, gazing out at calm waters. The water level is higher than it used to be, but the view is lovely. Peaceful. Calm. Full of possibilities and brighter for coming to a determined, thoughtful choice. I am appreciative for recognizing that this whole situation was truly a blessing in disguise. Occasionally, there come these moments where it is necessary to adjust our own personal watermark. I would go so far as to suggest it is one of the most healthy, loving gifts any of us can give ourselves.
________________________________
If you enjoyed this blog and would like to read more, you can find me at Healing Morning blog.

The hoopla of marriage

Weddings are a special time.

For most people, it is a time of celebration and parties.

The ceremony symbolizing the union may vary in each culture, but the ethos is the same: it's a time for new beginnings. A time when two families, not just two individuals, join forces.

And society acknowledges, and blesses, the newly weds, congratulating the respective families on this milestone.

But what makes a wedding special for the bride and groom is very different from what makes it special for the parents, relatives and friends.

My wedding was a quick affair.

I had flown in from Iowa City for a weekend...just to hang out; nothing special. We had been having conversations about marriage, living in, social pressure, parental expectations...wondering what the big deal was and why people gave it so much weight.

For the past two years we had discussed the meaning of marriage and concluded that for us the act of getting married by itself didn't signify a binding contract.

A social ceremony is held to validate the couple's commitment to each other -- but why do we need to publicly show our promise? So we can be held accountable, right? But when the two people who made that agreement don't want to honor it anymore, can others really hold them to it?

My life partner had decided early on that marriage wasn't for him. He wanted to spend his life with me, but he didn't need the stamp of marriage to make him carry on that undertaking.

I, on the other hand, wanted the illusion of security that an official document (but not a social celebration) provides. It wasn't that I didn't' trust him; I was just too entrenched in the socio-cultural value system I had grown up knowing.

We decided to walk the middle road.

So, that Thursday when all we had decided to do was sleep and watch TV, we paid a visit to the local court house.

We hadn't intended to get married -- just get some information, find out the process, etcetera.

Seemed pretty straightforward -- fill out some paperwork, present your IDs, pay the 79-dollar fee for a marriage license and decide when you want to have the ceremony. Seeing as it was so simple, we did the needful and took an appointment for the next morning.

We arrived at the courthouse at 10 a.m. the following day -- me a little giddy; he his usual composed self.

We walked down the steps to the marriage ceremony room, were asked if we had any witnesses, and upon answering in the negative were provided one.

The County Deputy Marriage Commissioner asked if we had rings to exchange. Nope.

"Do you have a necklace for her?" she asked, knowing that in Hindu wedding ceremonies the mangalsutra was more important than the ring.

"No," he said.

She shrugged and said, "Alright then, this shouldn't take long."

Eight minutes and 80 dollars later, she had pronounced us husband and wife.

I don't even remember those eight minutes -- all I remember is feeling oh-so-grown-up.

And special -- here I was, standing next to a guy who despite his dismissal of the institution of marriage, had participated in this ceremony to show me he really, truly loved me.

He didn't have to do it, but he did it anyway.

And for me, the gesture meant more than the piece of paper we walked away with.

No one knew we were getting married.

I didn't know we would be married by Friday when I flew in the day before.

And we didn't feel any different. I retained my last name. We told our parents. And that was that.

From our point of view, that is.

Our parents' perspective was slightly different.

Both sets wanted a public display -- mine a little grander than his.

The planning conversations began.

Not with me, but amongst themselves.

For many months prior to my arrival in India, all that mom and dad talked and breathed about were "the arrangements."

I found this handy visual on Dazediva's site to demonstrate what their planning must have entailed.

My parents were planning a wedding and a reception in my hometown, followed by another reception planned by my in-laws in their hometown.

We were flying to India for 10 days during winter break (I was still in Iowa) and didn't want a grandiose celebration -- after all, we were already married.

Not according to my parents.

My folks didn't acknowledge the "paper wedding" for the longest time, because they hadn't "given me away." And until they did that, I wasn't "his." Needless to say, they hadn't mentioned our clandestine court wedding to anyone.

They wanted to invite immediate and distant relatives, friends, extended social circle acquaintances, colleagues -- everyone they knew for their only child's wedding.

I was treating it only as a symbolic event -- so all I wanted was for people I cared about and those who cared about me for the crux of the ceremony.


Eventually, after a lot of heartbreak, crying, and emotional blackmailing, the ceremony took place in my parents' living room. The wedding venue had been flooded the night before.

Only 12 people were present and the ceremony took all of 90 minutes.

Finally -- we had gotten the social validation.

We were done.

The two receptions that ensued allowed for more social acknowledgment -- with the guests commenting on the food, our attire, the decorations, and the entertainment.

Of course, they had come to bless us -- the rest of it was just social norms.

Despite not wanting to, we did it all. Growing up I'd realized weddings are such a waste of money. Money that could be used to benefit so many people who really need it, but I went along anyway because this was the only way I could show my parents, the same way he did for me, that I really, truly loved them.

And they needed to do the whole jing-bang because of peer pressure. What would their friends say? What rumors would their colleagues float? What would our relatives think?

This was their only child -- they had to do right by the society they lived in.

Almost a decade into this relationship, seven of which have been spent as his wife, I can reflect and say we really didn't need either of those ceremonies for us.

We needed them for the people around us.

Even though we are married, our friends will vouch that ours is not the traditional husband-wife arrangement.

We've never been good at playing those roles, and I hope we never learn how to.

For us, being together is all that matters.

Marriage is just a by-product.

Also posted on my blog.

Night of the Grasshoppers

The night of the grasshoppers begins at Khruu June’s house. Villagers start showing up with lamps strapped to their foreheads like miners, hauling empty bamboo baskets. We climb into a pick-up driven by June’s husband and set out through the deepening dusk. The sunset is spectacular, with thunderheads glowing an icy pink-and-blue in the darkening sky.
The truck rattles past the reservoir, leaves the lights of the village behind and heads out into vast, dark fields of Thailand. After a while, even in the dark, I can see that the fields we have reached are full of sugarcane. Abruptly, the pick-up shudders to a halt and everyone pours out. A gate that leads into the sugarcane fields is tightly padlocked. The truck can go no further. Everyone begins to climb under or over the gate, so I do, too. On foot, we pass a shack with no electricity. The three children who live there are standing out front in the pitch dark, silently watching us slip past by like a throng of ghosts rustling the sugar cane. We pass a pond, and we are still tightly clumped together. And then, as if a secret signal has been given, the group scatters in all directions.
The sugarcane towers above us. Most people wear headlamps or carry flashlights. Some carry flickering candles, which they hold up to the sugarcane stalks, in search of grasshoppers. When a grasshopper is spotted, it is plucked from its perch and thrust into the basket. Sweat pours down my body and heat lightning flickers in the distance. The basket I carry grows noisier as the night goes on, rattling with the sound of grasshoppers hopping madly inside. Somebody’s candle starts a small fire which somebody else stamps out. Among the boys, there seems to be a competition for who can capture the most grasshoppers. We roam the fields, which seem endless. After a couple of hours, I begin to feel claustrophobic, trapped among the towering sugarcane, yearning for open space, for a place to stop moving, to rest, and cool down. I’m wondering if we will ever find our way back out again.
Then a quiet young village girl comes and takes me by the hand. She leads me gently and doesn’t bother speaking, as if I am a deaf-mute. Now she parts the sugarcane stalks, bends over and peers inside. She turns and smiles up at me, beckoning. I bend over and peer into the thicket of stalks. Three baby birds are nestled in a row on a stalk, serenading us in the night. We pause in our attack on the grasshoppers and listen to their delicate, trilling chorus.
The reward for all this labor comes later, back at Khruu June’s house. It does not involve money, but food. Baskets upon baskets of grasshoppers are dumped into woks sizzling with oil. The taste is salty and crunchy, similar to popcorn. Some of the villagers won’t eat the grasshoppers until they’ve pulled their stomachs out, because the stomach tastes bitter. I learn, after a few tries, that I won’t eat them until I’ve plucked off their razor-sharp legs.
Also posted on my blog Strange Islands

365 Lessons-Lesson 158: Celebrate the Success of Others

I think I posted this lesson before in another context. Can't help it, there's too much to celebrate. I came home from teaching a little tired and worn out. Nothing exciting to report until I looked down on my dining room table and there it was. A book!

Not just any book, a book from a blogger friend. I can't tell you exactly when I *met* Tony Anders from Ohio. Well, we've only met virtually. Yet, like many online friends I have crossed paths with here and other places, I feel like I know him well.

Today I received something tangible from Tony. Something that I could actually hold in my hands. A gift. It was such a different experience. When you type a comment to someone on a blog, there's feeling there. But when you hold an actual book sent to you by someone you met through the internet, suddenly things feel "real"...that this is a real person with real emotions who really exists. Not to say that you all don't exist out there, but sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I wish we could all meet up. I'm going to make that one of my goals. Maybe I won't be able to meet all of you, but I'd at least like to meet some of you.

Anyway, Tony Anders has a wonderful blog called Artisan of the Human Spirit which is also the name of his book. He is also a writer on a collaborative blog I started called Writers Rising which now has 34 authors. I asked Tony if I could buy an autographed copy of his book. He was so sure that my book would be published that he sent me a copy in exchange for mine when it comes out. On the first page of the book he wrote:

Katherine,

Thanks for being a good friend in my writing journey! I hope our paths cross someday and we can celebrate our writing success over tea and yoga!

Tony Anders,
6/4/10

I sure hope we will do that Tony! Signs have been appearing lately. I think if we pay close enough attention, they are always there. Tony's book on my dining room table this evening really made my day and I felt it was a sign. In celebrating the success of others, we are actually celebrating our own success because we are all connected. It depends what we decide to tune in to. I decided to randomly flip open Tony's book as I was eagerly looking for more messages or signs.

The booked opened to a chapter entitled, "Why Not?" And I have to give you a little book preview as Tony's words really spoke to me. He said:

To me, the fact that anyone is reading these words is a miracle. My writing, as well as a plethora of other desires and goals, have been postponed, shattered and shunned by my biggest critic: me! Fear (False Evidence Appearing Real) and insecurity rented space in my head for so long I started to believe I did not deserve or live up to what was mine for the taking. I spooked myself, procrastinated, and then disappointed me and others. No longer will I live in fear and sabotage my own potential.

I have certainly been there. It took me years before I was willing to share anything I had written with the public. I didn't feel what I wrote was worthy enough for others to read. It wasn't flowery or lyrical enough, I didn't have a fancy vocabulary or earth shattering things to share. Just a few days ago I posted "Take a Nap," sure that that would put everyone to sleep. It actually got quite a few comments and an e-mail from....of all people...my mother! She loved the post. Maybe we don't need to put this pressure on ourselves to be "amazing." Maybe what people are drawn to is who we are, just as we are. We don't need to add or subtract anything to what makes up us. We are wonderful as we are.

Thanks for making me realize this today Tony! You are wonderful as you are and I celebrate your success today. I am very happy for you my friend and I hope you sell many copies of your book! Peace to you, Katherine

Here's a little video I made after I received your book today. I am in my front yard garden. I am speaking softly, so sorry if you can't hear me very well, but the neighbors were playing ball in their yard next door and were a little puzzled at who I was talking to ^_^!