In celebration of Emily Dickinson's birth anniversary...

A poem of persevering and purpose, and within it a message of hope and the reality of an eternal existence.

Each life converges to some centre

Expressed or still;

Exists in every human nature

A goal,

Admitted scarcely to itself, it may be,

Too fair

For credibility's temerity

To dare.

Adored with caution, as a brittle heaven,

To reach

Were hopeless as the rainbow's raiment

To touch,

Yet persevered toward, surer for the distance;

How high

Unto the saints' slow diligence

The sky!

Ungained, it may be, by a life's low venture,

But then,

Eternity enables the endeavoring

Again.

A new holiday tradition...

This morning a curious thing happened. It is almost a ritual for me to begin the day with piping hot coffee, looking out at the sun as it comes up, while listening to the news. This morning as I made my coffee, I wondered how much of the news do I really digest and retain, and how much of it do I merely hear and tune out unconsciously. So I tore myself away from the window, and sat down in front of the TV (you see when the news is on the TV, I also need to watch it to really listen to it, yes I do). And so I watched, with horror, as the story of the San Mateo residential intrusion and shooting was narrated and then was mildly cheered to see the sunny forecasts for the holiday weekend. There's way too much violence in the world, so many people using all forms of desperate and inhuman measures to be heard and taken seriously. (Maybe that's why I tune out? Because I cannot bear to see the cruelty...Excuses excuses...) At any rate as I drove out to work I resolved, today I would genuinely pay attention to (more) news on the radio without mentally charting out an agenda for the day and trying to recollect a forgotten melody at the same time.

Apparently my mind waves were picked up NPR, for it aired the first in a series of recorded conversations inspired by StoryCorps' new holiday tradition for the day after Thanksgiving: To spend the day Listening! No, really!

A sobering thought indeed, if we have to declare a National day of Listening...

Indeed, we must all resolve to listen more carefully; to the birds chirping cheerfully every dawn, to leaves rustling gently in the wind, to hills murmuring mysteriously. To really listen to the responses of 'how're you doing?' tossed out hurriedly to friends and colleagues, to really pause and listen to what the cashier is saying as we hand out change, to hold the hand of a grandparent and accept the wisdom they so benevolently share. To listen to unsaid 'but's in a soft sigh, to the unasked request hidden in hesitation and pride. To the unheard voices that know not they could be helped, to the cries that do resound with compassion, each in our own ways , to the call of duty in every task postponed. To our inner voices, of reason and balance. To a higher truth that is all around.

Moved...

By the history that was made last night, by the unity that was forged, by hope that was resurrected, by dignity that was rewarded, by the barriers that were broken down, by the courage that was displayed, by the words of a man who promises to be an iconic leader...by these words:

http://elections.nytimes.com/2008/results/president/speeches/obama-victory-speech.html

Yes, we can.

Eunoia

Meaning 'beautiful thinking' is the shortest word in English containing all 5 vowels! It is also the title of a book that explores the unique character of each vowel in the English language. What a delightful idea and such a marvelous project!

Floating melodies...

Have you ever been caught mid-stride or mid-sentence wondering what that beautiful thing in the air is; that's producing the most pleasant waves of happiness within you? Something dancing gently about you, like a tiny bubble, here now, gone next and there again! Like the fragrance of roses in the distance, tickling your senses and changing your course till you catch sight of the enchanting bloom, elegant and demure, that tempted you so...
Ah! It's music after all...someone's playing in the warmth of their home...to a special audience, perhaps? Or for the sheer joy of it...
There's a secret thrill in hearing the music sung or played by another, unbeknownst to them. Of anticipating the next note, hanging delicately off the tips of the last one, and to be rewarded with an unexpectedly exquisite variation instead. Sigh...if only I didn't have a desitination to conitune on to...if only they hadn't stopped playing...
Sweet melodies...~

शुभ दीपावली!

An afternoon with the children

My former mentor, and God-mother at work, offered me yet another opportunity for learning when she invited me to speak at her son's school about community service. As ever, I was touched and moved by her kindness and more grateful than words can convey. For the first time though, I realized that I was actually quite nervous to speak in front of an audience; an audience of mostly ten- year olds. You see, adults think in familiar ways (and I highly recommend reading 'The Little Prince' to find out just how suffocating those ways are ;) ), along well-beaten paths of questioning and reasoning. Children are a whole other species altogether. Not for them the confines of such paved avenues of thinking; not for them the excuses and burdens of 'that's how it's been done'. On winged chariots, their minds race a zillion paces ahead of you, pausing only to clarify 'why not?!'.
After agonizing for days on how best to present the notion of sharing and service to such a discerning audience, I finally decided to make a short presentation and let the energy of the class drive the better part of an hour ; go with the flow, I said to myself...And flow it did! In fact, the children took charge entirely. Within a few minutes of talking to them, one thing became very clear to me. They understood, almost implicitly, the need for sharing and giving. In fact, many were even rather puzzled at why I was going to such lengths to explain what a wonderful thing it was! On more occasion than one, I was caught speechless by their depth of understanding; of their grasp on the mindlessness in throwing away used eyeglasses rather than donating them. M frowned at the statistics that were projected- more than 97% of used eyeglasses go uncollected every year- and declared, "That's really silly! Why do people throw things away?", and his buddy shrugged his shoulders, "Seriously!".
Yeah, seriously!
After fielding multiple questions on how UFS works, various impairments of vision, starting eyeglass collection drives and so forth, I was quite overwhelmed by their zest and curiosity, and looking for a breather, I exclaimed, "You guys have already collected twelve pairs!". At which, S adjusted her own spectacles on her nose, and nodding sagely, said "It's the ripple effect."
...
A most glorious Friday afternoon, spent with the most precious little beings, I came out of the classroom, heady with the exhilaration of knowing our world is in very safe hands; in their hands. Also, stunned at the compassion that children have. They do not question why one must serve of or help another; only how. They do not wonder what good it will do them; just how much good it will do the other. Isn't it so strange and ironic, that in growing up, we must go back to being children; to re-invent for ourselves this purity of purpose and eagerness to give?

--

As only Gibran can, he describes, and I quote, the truth I discovered yesterday about children:
"
...

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

..."

Apparently, Deepavali's on Monday....But it's not in the air-you know what I mean? Sheesh!!!!! I need to do something about the air!

I must also tell you

that I have, finally, read 'The Little Prince'. Or rather, have had it read to me. It is truly one of the most delightful books to be read, and turned out to be everything it was promised to be by other lovers of this treasure. Some of the truths, as explained very patiently by a little child, were very startling in their simplicity. And I know I will read it many, many more times to completely grasp, and fully own the knowledge within those covers. For now, the first reading has left me with a deep sense of satisfaction, and a song in my heart! :)

ps: I also think all children's books should be read aloud.

I must tell you

about this very cool drive Whole Foods has going every month- they will accept about 20 plastic bags in return for two re-usable, bio-degradable Whole Foods bags!

The possibilities are limitless. There is much hope. :)
On that note, let me quote Rabindranath Tagore:

Where the mind is without fear

and the head is held high,

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken

up into fragments by narrow domestic

walls;

Where words come out from the

depth of truth;

Where tireless striving

stretches its arms towards

perfection;

Where the clear stream of reason

has not lost its way into the

dreary desert sand of dead habit;

Where the mind is led forward

by thee into ever-widening

thought and action–

into that heaven of freedom,

my Father,

Let my country awake.

And may my 'country' encompass every inch of earth that man has set foot on and not be constrained by geographic boundaries. Let us arise and awake! :) Have a glorious week my dears!

the problem really is...infinity and eternity are concepts we find incredibly hard to contain within the very finite capacities of our minds...

Sometimes, I wonder, what life might be like without music...---shivers---

Unexpected acts of kindness are like rainbows after a down-pouring from the heavens. Yesterday I saw one such rainbow, late at night. (Many things happened yesterday that were quite like little rainbows in themselves, all wholly unexpected, little, petty pleasures....like finding the coziest reclining chair under shade, surrounded by flowers of every color- brilliant blue, glorious red and bright yellow....like the kinship forged over the magic that words bring, the joy that stringing them together brings...like meeting one of the sweetest souls from my dear dhwani after nearly two years....from hearing dhwani itself; more music than music is :)...).
Just as I was mulling over how quickly time has flown since I first received the email from JS welcoming me to UFS; how many friends have given of themselves so very generously, their kind words and creative energy the veritable life force sustaining me; just as I sat shaking my head over the end of summer, I received an email from E. More than a month ago I had casually mentioned my plans for the holidays and he had expressed an interest in learning more about UFS. So, I'd written him a mail describing their model and the tremendous impact they have...Yesterday, he wrote back with a most generous pledge and wishes that warmed my heart. Thank you E! And thank you all, my dear dear friends and family who have given me reason to smile wider every day; you are my rainbows on a rainy day!

the time is ripe...

For writing! There is a narrow window of opportunity between sorting out your thoughts enough to make a coherent piece of prose of, and it becoming so well ironed out that you can shove it right out of your head. So, seize that opportunity and write. For that moment will never return, and the thoughts lost to the world.
Happy writing my dears! :)

Out-of-the-box

For many years now, once every few months, I would try testing my ability to resist temptation or my favorite impulses, be it for food, entertainment, word-usage, colors, what not, just as a way to see just how much I can rein in my urge to give in to a habit or simply to force myself to try something new, a flavor, a hobby, or challenge a pre-conceived notion or check the extent of my reliance on something. And it has worked beautifully in the past and many good things have come of it. For instance, I discovered the joys of the radio after the TV was turned off. My day could begin without coffee (!), I could wake up without the alarm, (beige is an under-sung color) tomato juice simply delicious...
The one thing I haven't subjected to this test is my impulse, nay, near-addiction to checking my inbox every 10 seconds! So, here goes. For the next few weeks, I shall begin by only checking email once an hour (Yeah! I know! What has the world come to! Sigh).
Next up (if I don't die of withdrawal symptoms): rely on my (ever-faithful) memory to dial numbers on the mobile (drat it all) phone.
Happy weekend my dears! :)

immersion...

"Those who visit foreign nations, but who associate only with their own countrymen, change their climate, but not their customs; they see new meridians, but the same men; and with heads as empty as their pockets, return home with traveled bodies, but untraveled minds." -Colton (1780-1832)

This quote was shared by a friend and has been well worth thinking about for me, in terms of how accepting I am of new cultures and ideas, how open I am to change and different ways of thinking about things. More importantly it has been useful to ask myself, how objective am I to new frameworks and attitudes that challenge my existing beliefs, especially those that are self-limiting or based entirely on a narrowly defined space of observation and knowledge. This quote challenges me to step outside my comfort zone, accept things for the essential goodness and truth in them, not for their superficial association with familiarity, and at all times to keep from being judgemental...

Last Friday when I left work, the sprinklers were just starting up, to lavish its showers upon the manicured lawns outside the mini-Biotech park at Seaport; the grass green as ever, the sun beating down fiercely, the leaves still sitting pretty atop the trees. Well, see you Tuesday, I thought to myself.
The new week stole upon us during the long weekend and has also nearly ended. And what do I see this evening as I rush to catch the shuttle? The little green mound on which we wait for our bus, is hidden under a carpet of brilliant golden yellow leaves, maple-like, small and large, crisp and dry. For a moment I was startled. They were just beautiful! Like someone had burst open and sprinkled a bag of crepe stars over the green turf for it to dazzle and play in the sunlight.
Fall is here!

The great grandpa tree has been felled... In it's place now lies earth that has been dug out and mounds of wet mud scattered around. Scraps of wood clutter the path where the grass had been. The whole park seems to be in mourning; the squirrels must sorely miss their giant wooded play ground with it's sculpted trunk and serpentine branches, thick and strong, and the foliage dense and inviting; the dogs haven't come out to play, the birds haven't chirped as much. Perhaps it is all in my imagination? It must not be. The emptiness cries out aloud as I turn the corners of the library on my evening walk, I have to force myself to look away and content myself with the other trees, some younger, just beginning to establish themselves into the ground around the periphery of the park, and others a little older, their leaves downcast and sorrowful; the torchbearers for future generations of children to shade themselves under, birds to teasingly chase scampering squirrels down from and for wisdom to provide to the tender little grass-lings swaying gently in the wind.
No, there shan't be that waft of eucalyptus to tingle my senses with the breeze. There will no longer be the live mural behind the windows of the library in the children's corner. The sunlight streaming in now, unobstructed, seems a harsh reminder of what we've lost. A monument that endured for a century despite what killed it from within, an atrocity we wreaked on it. Yet forgiving and ever gracious, it stood by and smiled upon us gently. Just like a grandparent does a mischievous grandchild...
Dear, dear great grandpa tree, we miss you!