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Mar. 12th, 2011 08:32 amTowards the end of the day yesterday, my heart felt heavy, I felt very isolated and as if I was grieving. I walked home fast as usual; I zigzap depending on what lights are green and what streets I want to be on, those with the most interesting architecture, shops and restaurants. There is so much marble in the older buildings in Oakland. Some is cracked and crumbling like ruins. There is some type of glass or marble in front of certain shops, slightly raised domes, blue and green. You see so much more when you walk.
I'll take pictures eventually.
But yesterday afternoon, I zigzagged down streets I didn't like, I just went with the green lights; I just wanted to get home. I've noticed there are many blind people out walking. I think of them as fearless. I think walking makes you braver too.
To me, this sad anxious heaviness was an obvious reaction and participation in the collective mindset to the horrific earthquake, tsunami and nuclear issues from Sendai, Japan. I wrote my neighbor early Friday morning to ask about her family, they are all in Japan. She works in a Japanese tourist business in San Francisco. She was frightened, but updated me later last night. Her family lives in Tokyo, 250 miles away where still, things fell off the walls and out of shelves. Phone lines were down, but emails got through and they are located. I'm sure that's a good feeling but still such sadness for her country and friends of friends of friends....
My good friend works for Kikkoman in SF, he said one of the executives is from Sendai. I haven't heard anything more yet from that group.
There are many Japanese people where I work now, and of course there's a huge Japanese population here. It was quiet at work, everyone keeping up with the news, I think.
The roiling effects of the tsunami traveling over 5000 miles to our coast amazes me but reinforces that we are all part of one whole.
I called my mom at lunch, I knew she would be calling later asking me about the tsunami warnings and if I was in danger. Its kind of cute, but I remember being in Florida and hearing about things in California and you just never know where stuff is actually happening. She was relieved when I told her I was safe, naturally. My parents are older and I know they wish with all their hearts that the world was like they thought it would be, that children would always fare better than their parents, that gov't was still for the people. As they get older, they become more and more dear to me.
Last night I dreamed strange dreams, I slept lightly. I woke up worried and anxious about minutia but I realize that's my mind compensating for the tremendous suffering that is going on, that usually we don't think about. This always happens to me at times like this.
I don't want to talk today. I'm still slowly reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, which is like eating the most delicious nutrient rich meal while sitting in warm sunshine with only nature as a soundtrack.
I wake up early now. I like it and know that I need to be writing. I need to fullfill that thing inside me, do that thing that transports me.
My planting adventure is a trip! Garlic is really easy, they are gliding up with ease. The avocado is a 5 inch stalk with tiny beginnings of leaves showing. The hot peppers and ginger are still dormant. My peace lily doesn't bloom. I think I'm just going to accept that. It's in a new location and looks extremely vibrant.
My one cat is leaping into the huge potted ficuses that are on tables and stirring things up, munching leaves. I'm sure the dirt feels good to her. Hopefully the heavy one doesn't start, she could cause some real damage. I've pruned the ficuses to have long trunks with a leafy round canopy; they are ridiculously healthy. I'd love them to grow a few more feet then put them directly on the floor and have trees, in my home.
Peace and light and love today. Namaste Friends.
I'll take pictures eventually.
But yesterday afternoon, I zigzagged down streets I didn't like, I just went with the green lights; I just wanted to get home. I've noticed there are many blind people out walking. I think of them as fearless. I think walking makes you braver too.
To me, this sad anxious heaviness was an obvious reaction and participation in the collective mindset to the horrific earthquake, tsunami and nuclear issues from Sendai, Japan. I wrote my neighbor early Friday morning to ask about her family, they are all in Japan. She works in a Japanese tourist business in San Francisco. She was frightened, but updated me later last night. Her family lives in Tokyo, 250 miles away where still, things fell off the walls and out of shelves. Phone lines were down, but emails got through and they are located. I'm sure that's a good feeling but still such sadness for her country and friends of friends of friends....
My good friend works for Kikkoman in SF, he said one of the executives is from Sendai. I haven't heard anything more yet from that group.
There are many Japanese people where I work now, and of course there's a huge Japanese population here. It was quiet at work, everyone keeping up with the news, I think.
The roiling effects of the tsunami traveling over 5000 miles to our coast amazes me but reinforces that we are all part of one whole.
I called my mom at lunch, I knew she would be calling later asking me about the tsunami warnings and if I was in danger. Its kind of cute, but I remember being in Florida and hearing about things in California and you just never know where stuff is actually happening. She was relieved when I told her I was safe, naturally. My parents are older and I know they wish with all their hearts that the world was like they thought it would be, that children would always fare better than their parents, that gov't was still for the people. As they get older, they become more and more dear to me.
Last night I dreamed strange dreams, I slept lightly. I woke up worried and anxious about minutia but I realize that's my mind compensating for the tremendous suffering that is going on, that usually we don't think about. This always happens to me at times like this.
I don't want to talk today. I'm still slowly reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, which is like eating the most delicious nutrient rich meal while sitting in warm sunshine with only nature as a soundtrack.
I wake up early now. I like it and know that I need to be writing. I need to fullfill that thing inside me, do that thing that transports me.
My planting adventure is a trip! Garlic is really easy, they are gliding up with ease. The avocado is a 5 inch stalk with tiny beginnings of leaves showing. The hot peppers and ginger are still dormant. My peace lily doesn't bloom. I think I'm just going to accept that. It's in a new location and looks extremely vibrant.
My one cat is leaping into the huge potted ficuses that are on tables and stirring things up, munching leaves. I'm sure the dirt feels good to her. Hopefully the heavy one doesn't start, she could cause some real damage. I've pruned the ficuses to have long trunks with a leafy round canopy; they are ridiculously healthy. I'd love them to grow a few more feet then put them directly on the floor and have trees, in my home.
Peace and light and love today. Namaste Friends.
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