a practice in introspection

yesterday i joined a group of 10 or so pregnant ladies and two midwives at grace cathedral atop nob hill. our purpose? to walk the labyrinth as a group at the stroke of noon.

it was a perfect sf day. the sun streamed down, making the square block flanked by the Mark and the cathedral shine in exuberance.

i was feeling pretty good, too. i sat on the steps leading to the cathedral, and took it all in.

soon ladies following their bellies appeared, and we all entered together. it was awe-inspiring. i never tire of the ornate stillness that surrounds me when i step into an old church. the labryinth was awesome: front row and center; the nucleus of the knave.

we convened in a group, and my yoga teacher (also a midwife) unfurled some green string that each of us handled so that we were all connected in a circle. she explained how we would enter the labyrinth at our own speed and once we reached the center, we could leave when it was right for each of us. we then each cut a piece of the string so that we'd have a symbol of the greater group with us as we walked. another midwife stood at the entrance, asking each of us if we wanted oil for our mind or our heart. i chose mind.

upon entering, i was flooded with emotion and immediately began to tear up. but then i calmed and began my walk. we were a noticeable bunch: 10 or so pregnant ladies walking slowly, some gazing down, others, like me, noticing my surroundings and taking it all in. i held my string on my belly. it just remained there as i touched it and stroked her sweet movements as i moved along the curves.

a woman appeared with a small child and stood watching outside the labyrinth as those of us with babies on the inside walked. the next time i saw her, she was standing at the entrance, holding her baby. after a pause, she began walking. she was the only person outside of our group who entered with us. at times her child cooed and cried and yelped, and all of us smiled.

musical thinking

music has been on my mind, especially lullabies--not traditional lullabies per se, although those are nice, too, but more the tunes that have lullaby qualities. i keep thinking that maybe i'll find some soothing gamelan tunes, but so far the stuff becomes a little too dissonant at times, and the image of cooing and soothing a sweet littl'un disappears. i'm not interested in covers of current songs being turned into lullabies, but gems that calm and relax both adults and whippersnappers. any ideas?

my first 24 hours

about 48 hours after our newly-anointed president was tapped, i went to an almost-blue state. that'd be north carolina. jesse helms territory. formerly libby dole turf.

but this isn't about my lovely blue state trip. it's about the 24 hours that followed. while in nc, many kind folks ooohed and ahhhed about the city and asked me what it was like to live in such a great spot. i shared some of the usual and some of the unexpected: like how small-town it feels at times because of its size and because many dwellers go by foot. these two characteristics make path crossings a surprising reality.

to prove my point, here's a tale of my first 24 hours.

my first morning i was exuberant. it was one of those glorious days both in mind and spirit, and i was taking full advantage by walking to work. i offered a good morning to each person i passed, sometimes receiving a quizzical response, yet always a positive one. i passed a woman at a bus stop with a cute hat and complimented her on it. she smiled and laughed. at a crosswalk i told a woman i loved her coat, and she did the most curious thing. she looked at me and said,

"thank you. it's the craziest thing that you said that to me, because i was thinking--just now--how i liked it, but i wanted to give it away, especially to someone who'd like it. do you want it?"

i was a bit taken aback. no one had ever propositioned clothes to me on a street corner. she continued, saying that she couldn't give it to me right now because she'd be too cold, but she works nearby and she'll give me her information so i can contact her. i decided quickly that it didn't matter if i liked the coat or if it didn't fit. there was something special about this connection and this woman and i planned to take her up on it. we introduced ourselves, i found out where she works, and she handed over her contact info.

i emailed her today. haven't heard back yet, but i'm sure i will.

and then that evening, david and i enjoyed tapas at a table by the street, and who should jump to the window to make a face, but our sweet friend greg. i leapt to the sidewalk, gave him a kiss, returned to our table, and thought: man, this is a great small town.

a year in flickr

i'm amazed and perplexed by my friends and family who craft holiday cards that recreate an entire year of events. are their lives that eventful? do they live out the year, taking notes of things worthy of christmas card remembrances? or do they perhaps keep a calendar of these things, and consult it whilst putting pen to paper?

i don't do any of the above mentioned, but since i've lately been of the challenging ilk, here's my go of it:

2007: a walk down memory lane

JANUARY: my good friend hollis and i traipsed barefoot on near-empty kauai beaches. and... in T minus 9 days, we'll do it again!

FEBRUARY: our buddy lee lefever showed up on the scene for a fun, mildly raucous, and thought-provoking visit. mid-month, i left behind my flaneur lifestyle, and entered the world of the workaday set, happily joining the smart folks at techsoup. still happy after almost a year... :)

MARCH: ahhh, ¡España magnífica! david and i traveled to spain, and spent a magical week with friends, learning about food, drink, and history. it was an incredible trip!

APRIL: our good friends jay and anastasia came through san francisco to see old buddies, to catch up on the city's creperie scene, and to support jay's cousin's first novel (read it before the sequel hits!). wine stashes were depleted, new-to-us restaurants were enjoyed, and we now await their next visit.

MAY: this month comprised fun and bittersweet moments. first the fun: a communications conference was held in the city, which meant many colleagues, and most importantly, close friends, showed up in town. on one night, we hosted a dinner party, where we commingled past, present, and future friends. soon after, david and i flew to nebraska to see my sweet auntie lee, who at 94, was just beginning to experience health issues connected to terminal cancer. it was a bittersweet visit, one filled with laughter and tears. i miss her.

JUNE: a much awaited and celebrated visit from mom and dad! we had a terrific time, visiting what seemed like every corner of this urban playland, focusing on what mom and dad termed, "our san francisco."

JULY: a crazy-making and eventful month, we flew to vashon island to see lynne and chris make it official, turned eastward to attend a mini-family reunion, and then moved our belongings and kitty cat to our new pad.

AUGUST: we didn't fly anywhere and no one visited. :)

SEPTEMBER: i took a 2-week trip on a bookmobile!

OCTOBER: lynne and chris visit! as our second visitors to the new pad (mom beat them by 48 hours), they both enjoyed, and played a part in, the demise of our air mattress (public apology to them, and to jay b, who slept on our floor, twice).

NOVEMBER: i traveled to seattle and saw lynne and hollis, my stitch crew, and i met my dear friends' new family. AND, we got married. :)

DECEMBER: after the whirlwind of november, david and i chilled, mostly, in the city. we bought our first tree together, and are enjoying a relaxing holiday at home.

moma for lunch

today i went to the moma over a leisurely lunch. i hadn'tbeen to the moma in over a decade, and enjoyed it so much, i'll be going back to finish what i started.

most notable, and the best reason for returning, was Take your time: Olafur Eliasson.

we walked into kaleidoscopes, controlled a wall of waves, skirted around an ethereal rain sheen, watched light shift and dance, and at the end, became a living group of black and white. the last part almost overwhelmed my senses, it was so odd to stand in a room, color washed out of our clothes and faces.

i'll return before it ends. if you're in town, i'll take ya!

taking care

there's something about blue skies and the wide open ocean that offers solace and a hopeful perspective. i'm certain it has some relation to being raised in a land-locked state, and i'm certain that it really does mend my soul.

when i drove around the bend that offered the vast pacific in view, the familiar chills nabbed hold. when i wended up the rock face that defines the glorious highway one, i thought how auntie lee would've loved this view--or she would've loved hearing about it. she's only seen my hometown in pictures, and delighted in stories of the promised land that most midwesterners only visit.

nothing like a bright sunny day on a near-empty beach.

today i stared into shallow pools and watched an underwater world come to life. i also happened upon some very large harbor seals, and gained insight into their sunning and lumbering behaviors as they lurched toward the surf.

the kids are alright.

the past few days have been filled with kids: birthdays, updates, and new families.


for the family, it's yet another cutie of a nephew turning a year older and a twin who decided it was time to stand up and check out his brother. for my college roomie, it's a sweet photo of mom and her adorable daughters, and for the biggest surprise yet (and one that got me all teary), my dear friends welcomed two sweet boys into their lives who now have the coolest dads ever. :)

i'm clean now

i haven't yet received my luggage, but i've managed to scrape away the plane-ness and sadly, the madrid-ness from my skin.

it felt odd waking up to nene howling for food at 7 am this morning. in a haze, i wandered to the kitchen and managed to feed her food meant for cats, even though i wasn't sure where i was or what i was doing.

our trip was magical.

every bit of it.

look at our smiling faces.















each day was special, and each day followed this basic regimen:
1. wake up, puzzled to be greeted with, "buenas tardes" because that means it's afternoon.
2. shrug off the fact that the morning is now in the past, and take a shower to prove that the day is still young.
3. accept the traditional spanish sherry that david hands you, and recognize fragrances of lunch being prepared.
4. around 3:00 pm begin eating appetizers and prepare the table for lunch.
5. sit, eat, drink red wine, and enjoy a conversation-filled languorous midday meal.
6. siesta
7. wake around 7:00 pm.
8. chat with friends, and discuss plans for walking, "having wines," and dinner.
9. tour the city, relishing david's penchant and skill for narrating madrid. become accustomed to hearing phrases like, "now we're entering the 18th century" and explanations of history, culture, music, and gastronomy as if david had lived and breathed for hundreds of years.
10. have wines impeccably matched with olives, french fries, or meats of the region.
11. wander to what you believe to be The Most Special Restaurant until you're met with the very same feeling the next dinner.
12. sit back and observe david negotiate in spanish each gastronomical triumph, wondering why so much is being exchanged between him and the waiter.
13. explore flavors and foods unmatched by past culinary experiences.
14. recognize that the unease of being the last group in the restaurant is disappearing, and that my body expects dinner to begin around 10 pm and end at midnight or later.
15. wander to a bar to continue conversations.
16. return home around 3 am and sleep.
17. wake up at 6:30 shrouded in foggy pacific time to find our friend alex from toulouse, bright-eyed and cheery at his laptop, not yet asleep. we wave.
18. repeat for 5 days until our road trip to southwestern spain.