A momentary lapse of writing

14 March 2019 at 06:04
bed: 21:52 dropped off like a light
woke: around 05:30
fof: 05:48
done since then: exercise, yoga, gratitude, prayer, brush hair, opened skylight felt the air. wind is blowing. cloudy. 6C

Has been a beautiful week so far.

Monday I dove into high gear straight from the get-go. By 07:30 I had exercised, done yoga, meditated/prayed, SHOWERED (omg, I showered before leaving the house), GOTTEN DRESSED (no yoga pants! even an OFFICE-Y OUTFIT!), WASHED MY HAIR (that was before getting dressed of course, just so proud of it). Yes, I’m writing for an audience with all those capitals. And channeling Glennon Doyle. So what? She is god after all. Or one version of it anyway.

Doesn’t look like I wrote that morning though. But I had done more than enough writing the days before. That’s how I saw it, I think. I didn’t write it down, so now the moment is gone, and only guessable. The truth can only be written through a moment. Ergo the truth is impossible to write, since if you only write what is in a moment, you are writing about

the o the u and t appearing after the b

and that, even that, is in the past. Though just seconds ago.

Went for walk with younger kids around the lake, it wasn’t too bad that time, if I remember right (usually they are a couple of banshees, it’s like two wrestling monkeys tumbling atop one another, and you wonder why there are no other moms doing the same, walking their puppies-I-mean-boys before school, just the incessant chatter from Z, asking things like how do

OMG total blank there.

Seriously the questions he asks are mind-blowing. And I’ll start giving him some kind of theoretical answer and in the middle of that answer he’ll ask another question about something else entirely and he has this adorable little baby voice with two front teeth still growing in and his hand is really small and warm in mine and I rub it a little, ostensibly to heat his up but actually it’s because it’s so cute and warm and then all of a sudden he’s smiling up at me saying I love you mama and then he’s firing off like a shooting star bouncing off the trees and peering at fish in the lake and then his brother’s caught up and his name begins with Y and now he begins asking questions in his own lovely slow ginger-voiced fashion and I feel a bit relaxed and then my ears begin to ring from questions and talking and then Z comes back and tackles Y while giggling wildly with laughter and they are rolling around in the dirt and bouncing ninja-style off hillsides and I throw my hands in the air and shake them around wailing about clean clothes now dirty just before school and I start fantasizing about the playsuit design I’ve been working on in my mind you know like those anti-contamination suits that the scientists in ET wear you could just zip them over your kids’ clothes in the morning then zip them off again when you arrive at the school and then I grab the kids’ hands to stop them from ending up in the lake and the kindly man with black overcoat and backpack nods at us from under his cap with his kind and twinkling smile and then we see Jeanette our little white furry friend and I touch her nose to mine and stroke her soft fur and speak English to her in a high baby voice and she waggles her little tail at high speed and looks lovingly into my eyes through her soft, freshly coiffed white bangs and then she and her beautiful red-coated lady are gone and then Z asks why Jeanette doesn’t do that with him and suddenly we are three-quarters around the lake and the conversation is switching to “can I have a spirit-of-gaming chair like so-and-so” and “I just really want this or that [insert stupid item]” and I find myself explaining logos and their similarity to the hell’s angels’ except the hell’s angels’ are nicer and I find myself talking about all kinds of things I don’t feel like talking about on such a nice morning including Idiocracy and couches with toilets in them and Wall-ee and hover-beds with giant-sized soda sippy-cups attached to them and my voice gets very stern but they begin to whine and beg and argue and finally I say “QUIET! EVERYBODY QUIET.” And I launch into a very annoyed-and-no-nonsense-voiced lecture of how we should enjoy the present moment and the nature or nothing at all so they run away and do some more wrestling and then we are at the van and I am wet-wiping clothes with old dried out wet-wipes from 5 years ago that I’ve reconstituted with water and I’m clucking my tongue and rolling my eyes and they are looking momentarily chagrinned and perhaps ashamed because of all my clucking and complaining about dirty clothes and shoes and then I finally put down the wet-wipes and say you know what? Who cares. Be proud because you were outside this morning. You filled your mind and heart and lungs with the tall trees and the funny submarine birds making ripply waves and noticing the coloured pebbles through the water bends, and now all of that is contained within you. And it’s what’s inside that counts.

And then I bring them to school.

And then I go to the place I work for for free and have a wonderful meeting with a salaried colleague there about the work in general and schedules and the difficulties and good things about the work and I have really planned out what I wanted to say and I have really told the truth as well as I know it and she is such a gem of a person and has many of the same struggles with boundaries that I myself encounter and it all just feels wonderful and then she’s off to a client appointment and I’m off to do the grocery shopping and I’m walking the aisles in a kind of daze staring at blueberry jams and then I’m standing at the fresh orange juice machine watching oranges drop down and get halved and pressed and I’ve got this gorgeous full bottle of liquid orange-gold and

then I’m suddenly at home washing leeks for lunch, bless my husband he has started the soup which gives me the impetus to continue and finish it, slicing the leeks lengthwise and then crosswise and hearing their delightful wet crunch under the knife and smelling the sugary smell of the onions already bronzing in the bottom of the pot and then the sizzle of kettle-boiled water hitting the steel and then the chop of the carrots in little orange circles and the easy slabs of potatoes against the wood of the board then a little dash of salt and cumin and coriander and I like the way the cumin is not ground but in little flavourful seeds that will burst between your teeth if you find them and bite on them and the water is bubbling thickly and

Later after dropping the kids off again I go home and begin moving file cabinets around the house and trying to make sense of

the fact that there is not time to write it all while you are living.

 

thank you for being here, now,

love,

xo n


Photo by Nadine JL 2019-02-12. Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Zone of Emptiness, France. If you wish to contribute and/or show appreciation, please recommend/like and/or comment. Thank you for reading. ❤︎

16 thoughts on “A momentary lapse of writing

    1. Thank goodness this morning it was mostly yes or no questions. “Does obsidian exist?” Yes. “Is emerald more valuable than diamond”? No. “Is diamond more indestructible than brownstone?” Yes. “Can I get a different video game today since I’m bored of MineCraft?” No.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. What an amazing Ted talk! Heartfelt thanks for sharing that. So many gems in there. Ten thousand year old clock… property sold to the organization building the clock, for 140K instead of 1B, Jeff Bezos in the photos of the interior explorations of the Arizona mountain set to house the 9-ft tall clock; ten thousand year old tree stumps on the top of the chosen mountain; as well as the oldest non-clonal being currently thought to be alive on the planet (the five-thousand-year-old bristlecone pine trees). My husband walked by and heard snippets of the talk as I listened, and mentioned that his favourite author Neil Stephenson had written a novel (called “Anathem”) based on this clock project.

      For me the most beautiful part was that Brian Eno was working on the never-repeating melody generator for the chime music. Each day in ten thousand years, a different chime.

      But I do have to say that something bothered me. The talk finishes with a quote from a group of First Nations people the speaker Stewart Brand calls the “Tewa Indians.” “Pin peya obe” is the phrase he quotes, which is said to mean, “Welcome to the mountain.” But all through the talk I was thinking, they are building a ten-millennial project on whose land exactly? Who “owned” this land for the ten thousand years prior to the “now”? It was not Jeff Bezos, who “owns” it now. It was not any of the white people who owned it just before him. So whose land was it exactly? Are their descendants involved in the clock project? I hope so, since the so-called “owners” seem to be using the quote of these people to sell their idea in the now.

      These kinds of questions are now ringing as loudly for me as the mountain clock’s beautiful chimes. I have not yet looked into the answers. But you have certainly piqued my interest in this interesting church of time, to which the project designers hope many people will make pilgrimages in the millennia to come.

      Thanks again dear Holodoc. love xo n

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The whole concept of ‘land ownership’ is but a tool for controlling the less powerful, and has been since the agricultural revolution, ten thousand years ago. An incredible book on the subject is Sapiens, by Yuval Harari.
        Tomas Jefferson actually commented on the inherent unfairness of the concept and offered a federal benefit to young people just starting our, of twenty dollars, to attempt to equalize this unfairness. (but then even he “owned” people/slaves) I believe that Brand, “bought” the land, not to own it, but to protect it from the rapaciousness of American Capitalists. It won’t work however, Climate Change will wreck havoc with all of our plans, hopes, dreams and schemes, as regards humanities relationship with the land.
        Hope this isn’t too dark a comment. I can hope that more of us who love, rather than hate, will prevail. Dr. Bob

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I love this comment. I have to admit that similar pessimistic thoughts crossed my mind, although climate change was the least of my worries in this particular case. I will put that book
          Sapiens” on my list. What I love most about this whole clock project is the hope involved. May that be the thing that lives on, with or without the clock inside the mountain at the end of ten thousand years. May artists like these clock designers and supporters (including the world’s richest man and first centi-billionaire) always continue to have hope and “long-game” vision. May they also continue to expand and understand their own knowledge base to include not only the epithetical wisdom of ancient peoples who understood the landscape they now “borrow” for their project, but also the living “branches” or descendants of those peoples, if they are not already doing that. If handled with as much altruism and integrity possible on the side of the current project managers, what an amazing opportunity for peace.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I like that there are folks with smarts and means to hold the long vision. Much much more, do I like that more ordinary folk, like you and I, hold that vision, and teach it to our kids and grandkids. After all, It has been said “The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth” Dr. Bob

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Cheers to that, dear doc. May we never forget that the stories told to the children at our own knees (or at the ends of our hands) will perhaps affect the future the most. xoxo love Nr. Nadine

              Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply to clinock Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s