April is many things to the poetic brain, to the romantic at heart. It even somehow manages to give a tinge of optimism to the incorrigible pessimists amongst us.
It is the month of gorgeous signs of spring in the bay area. Hillsides filled with green grasses and wildflowers in hues of yellows, pinks, purples & oranges everywhere. It is difficult to not be buoyed up in spirits when spring gets going like this around us. The butterflies flit, bees buzz, woodpeckers peck (drill?), tulips push up through the soil, flowers burst forth from buds, barren trees cloak themselves in new leaves.
Life, it seems, wants to be up and about.
April is not just when Spring is in its glory:
📜 It is the month of poetry – I picked up a bunch of poetry books from the library the other day, and have yet to get to them. It is the thought that counts.
📚It is the month that has a day dedicated to Books –World Book Day. I found my pace of reading especially slow this month given everything, but I still clutched them inhaling the scent of my dearly beloveds that night – too tired to read, but too stubborn to put it away and fall asleep. Someone must’ve rescued them, for I saw them in a tottering pile on my bedside table in the morning, and smiled.
I did not even feel my usual sense of helplessness as my to-do list remained stubbornly long. It is a list and has a right to exist, I told myself. Spring cleaning can wait, to-do lists can wait (maybe it is why we have World Workers Day on May 1st – to remind us to get back to that list)
I sat watching the water flow, feeling the sweet caress of the gentle breeze at night, and had this strange urge to just sit there and enjoy time flowing by. It had been an exceptionally hot and dry day filled with activities and emotions.
“These are the times in life — when nothing happens — but in quietness the soul expands.”
– Kent
As we grow older, I find we need to fight for those moments in life. Find those quiet moments in which to let the soul expand. My mind wandered to what I had read about Keats and his Cave of Quietude as he calls the quiet and expansive moments of our lives.
They say of books, that each book appears at a particular moment in your life. I was reading the book, The Great Work of our Lives – By Stephen Cope, recommended to me by a good friend. I shall be ever grateful – it was marvelous and precisely the sort of book I required to read.
Version 1.0.0
The Great Work of Our Lives – Our Dharma
I see this is the sort of book that I shall be giving to people who find themselves at the cross-roads. I have always thought that concepts like Dharma have a certain weighty interpretation. But to have them handled in the skillful hands of a writer like Stephen Cope makes all the difference. In a lucid style, he talks about the important concepts of the Gita and compares and contrasts them against the life of well-known poets, naturalists, and writers. He also draws parallels of the teachings against real-life people (with their names changed of course)
Excerpt:
“ Keats, in a brilliant intuitive move, now attempted to work out the problem of grasping through the protagonist of the poem he was writing.”
“How does Endymoin work it out? He enters what Keats called “The Cave of Quietude’, a retreat into the depths of consciousness. In quiet retreat and contemplation, Endymion realizes that success and failure are not the measure of life. He sees the way in which both light and shade, success and failure, and praise and blame, are all parts of life.”
When you wonder which pieces to highlight in the book, and think you shall have to re-read multiple sections because it resonates with you, it is a good book, wouldn’t you agree?
May we all find our Caves of Quietude and find moments of calm and peace in which nothing happens, and the soul expands.
In what was a beautiful wind-whipped whirl one morning, the on-a-spring-break son and I went on a walk. Power & Internet were down, which meant we could both twirl off on our adventures while these things were being restored.
A few minutes in, we were confronted with a huge water pipe that gushed out in great spades. The county’s water department was already there looking into the problem, while we stood watching in awe as the water spooled off into the drain. Clean water.
“Hmm…everything decided to go nuts huh?!” the son said, as we stopped to marvel at the swift waters.
“Do you think we’ll have time to head back and bring back papers to make boats?” he asked, after a few seconds of awed water watching. I saw the determined faces of the county workers’ faces gleam with triumph – they had fixed the problem no doubt, which meant our time was short. Luckily, it was also garbage day, and the windy day had scattered a couple of pamphlets in the wind as the garbage truck tipped the contents over. So, off we went chasing after these pamphlets to make into paper boats.
If the maestros of productivity were to observe us that morning, there would be a lot of tutting, and note-taking on ways-to-improve, but we felt amazing.
Our boats, Mitillandimus Tittilandumas, and Mixter Baxter Junior fared the best. The remaining capsized before starting. For those interested, our boat christening was inspired by Gerald Durrell’s boat, Bootle Bumtrinket, in the book, My Family and Other Animals.
There does not seem to be a word to capture the sense of adventure, contentment and joy watching your paper boats take off on adventures, but we both highly recommend the experience.
What kind of life is it always to plan
and do, to promise and finish, to wish
for the near and the safe? Yes, by the
heavens, if I wanted a boat I would want
a boat I couldn’t steer.
~ Mary Oliver, Book: Blue Horses
Just as the last of our boats disappeared with the rivulets, the wind picked up, and we tried keeping ourselves upright as we continued on. It was no use. Within minutes, the winds were accompanied by plump raindrops, and we scuttled back home.
It had been a useful outing, and we came back refreshed and grateful that the rains started lashing down a few minutes after we reached. Back home, the power gods had restored electricity but not the internet. So, we settled ourselves down to a cup of tea and cocoa. We sipped in silence while the rain pattered all around us.
“Wonder what happened to our boats!” the son said finishing his hot cocoa, and we smiled together. They were not in safe harbor, and it was an exhilarating thought.
Spring is here, and with it, the delightful uncertainties of the weather.
Would it be a cold, bright, cloudless day, or a cold, cloudy day, or a warm sunny day? The possibilities are endless. Sometimes, I feel like a lamb in spring-time ready for a spot of prancing and rollicking in the hills, other times, like a caterpillar not yet ready to shed the cocoon.
Springtime is a fantastic excuse to wear a silly hat and chase after unicorns, wouldn’t you agree?
– Uncle Fred in the Spring Time – By P G Wodehouse
With the increasing length of our days, it is a beautiful feeling to step out into the sunset at the end of the day, The golden hour seems more radiant, and seems to even linger more, though that just may be due to the fact that the body has had the time to sip a cup of tea at the end of the day before sunset.
One evening, I stopped to savor a fat plop of a raindrop on my face, and saw that the cherry trees had leaves on them. The flowers had all but gone. They were there two days ago. I peered at another tree not far away, still resplendent in its floral beauty, and another one that had a good smattering of brown leaves along with their pinkish blossoms. Once again, that longing to capture the blooming and blossoming in slow-motion came over me. How lovely it would be to sit and watch for the leaves to come in?
Ah! What little things give us pause?!
I read about a beautiful Japanese concept, Oubaitori
The ancient Japanese idiom, Oubaitori, comes from the kanji for the four trees that bloom in spring: cherry blossoms, plum, peach, and apricot. Each flower blooms in its own time, and the meaning behind the idiom is that we all grow and bloom at our own pace.
A few days later, I went on another walk, this time peering up at a clear blue sky, and no jacket, only to notice the young gingko trees in the neighborhood beginning to sprout their light green leaves of beauty. I remembered the large gingko tree we’d long admired. That large tree, over a century old, fell in the winter storms this year, and I felt a pang. The patch on which it stood was overgrown with fresh grass, and a meadow full of yellow flowers. Nature’s lessons and epiphanies are rarely novel, but always welcome.
Making a mental note to go for a short hike in the beautiful green hills nearby, I reluctantly headed home.
Spring time is nature’s way of saying, ‘Let’s Party’!
– Uncle Fred in the Spring Time – By P G Wodehouse
Maybe it is time for a spot of springtime laughter with the maestro, P G Wodehouse himself.
“I don’t know! Hopefully. It has been raining, so the poor things may have moved away, ” I said. We’ve christened the deer family near our homes. The mother and father are called Lily & James (I know!). Sometimes, there are several families – we call them all James & Lily.
We caught sight of them – much closer than they usually are, that evening, and exchanged a look so close up, it was … revealing, deep? (hard to pin down in one word). It isn’t often one gets the chance to exchange a deep searching look with a deer. It is a marvelous experience – and one we wouldn’t forget soon. Those brown eyes seem endless, and so full, it somehow fills up your being too. When poets write of moments feeling like eternity etc, I suppose this is what they meant. It could not have been more than a few seconds, and yet, the eyes spoke a language of eyes.
Whenever writers talk about pools of emotion showing in the eyes, and the shapes of their ghosts flitting through their characters’ eyes and all of that, I am never sure what to think of it. Sure, it sounds brilliant and poetic, but can we really show all of that in one glance? Looking into the deer’s eyes was oddly satiating, and it was definitely more than words can try.
Clearly the son was moved too, for he said, as soon as it left, “Do you want to talk to animals sometimes?”
I nodded. “That would be nice.”, I said
“What do you think they’d talk about?”
🐕🦺🪷🦌🍀🐺❄️🐀🍁 Understanding Animals 🐕🦺🪷🦌🍀🐺❄️🐀🍁
“I suppose it depends on the animals. Elephants have different concerns than pangolins. Bees, squirrels and ants – being more community animals may have similar concerns. But I think I’d like to know the range of emotions they have. Do squirrels have greed? Do ants have jealousy? Pelicans have been known to sacrifice themselves for their pod. “
Are there some emotions or behaviors that are completely unknown to man that our creatures possess? We know many animals feel love, despair etc.
If a wolf is kicked out of its pack, it never howls again.
– From the book, Sad Animal Facts – by Brooke Barker
“For instance, and we all know whales have complex legends in song format that they pass down. With all the skills of navigation, survival, and protecting required, I am sure they all have different topics.”
“I think I’d also like to see what kinds of things they keep in long term memory. I mean we know elephants have long-term memories, but what does that constitute? Just routes to water during times of drought or also towards betrayals etc. They must have some extraordinary lives and stories to tell then, isn’t it?”
He was nodding along. We talked about the size of their brains in proportion to their sizes. Brain ratio requires a separate post in itself, but there are so many fascinating things once you start looking into it.
For instance:
“An alligator’s brain weighs less than an oreo. “
– Quote from the book, Sad Animal Facts – By Brooke Barker
The alligator literally has the smallest brain to body ratio. Only 0.2 % of its body mass is the brain.
🐘 🐊 ⌘ Gajendra Moksha & Vishnu Sahasranamam 🐘 🐊 ⌘
This led to research on a few things about body to brain ratios, and curiously, the myth of the crocodile vs the elephant in Hindu mythology, Gajendra Moksha. It is curious how the myth pitted the lowest brain ratio animal against one of the wild animals with the highest ratios (the elephant). It is supposed to be a reminder to keep our egos in check. Gajendra finally relinquished his ego, and required the great god, Vishnu, to come in avatar form and save the elephant.
Gajendra’s plea to Lord Vishnu is called the Gajendra Stuti and is the first stanza of the Vishnu Sahasranamam (the 1000 names of Vishnu)
We came home fascinated by all the different things we usually do not pay attention to – filled with wonder, and awe. Many of us have forgotten what it is like to have encounters with our fellow beings – sometimes, exchanging a glance with a deer is all it takes to take on this incredible journey.
The multiplicity of forms! The hummingbird, the fox, the raven, the sparrow hawk, the otter, the dragonfly, the water lily! And on and on. It must be a great disappointment to God if we are not dazzled at least ten times a day.
“Isn’t it marvelous to leave such a legacy behind?” I asked sleepily. It was Dr Seuss’s birthday and typically marked as Read Across America week. I miss the fuss of the week in elementary schools. The middle schoolers and high schoolers get to have their fun, but we just get to hear about it a lot less, I guess.
Lazily, I picked up a book written by Dr Seuss, that has been lying around for ages in the children’s bookshelves and had never read before. The Bippolo Seed and Other Stories.
The stories, some of them at least, had predictable plot lines, but oh! How he presented them! I feel justified in the use of as many exclamation marks as necessary when writing about Dr Seuss. For instance, there is a story of a bear ready to pounce on a rabbit. The rabbit, doing some quick thinking, stalls the bear with an intriguing thought.
The Rabbit, the Bear, and the Zinniga-Zanniga
“I sure hate to tell you It isn’t too good.I was counting the eyelashes 'round your eyes,Your left eye…your right eye…and, to my surprise,They weren’t the same number!…“I’m sorry…SO sorry.But, sir, it is true.Poor Bear! This is dreadful!One eyelash too few!”
In typical Dr Seuss fashion, the rabbit takes it to ridiculous extremes. Could the bear’s spine be cracking, could his brain be lopsided, all those aches and pains, oh it all makes sense. By the end of the tale, the bear is sitting atop a zinniga-zanniga tree with a flower pressed to his eye so that the extra eyelash can grow and make him feel whole again, while the rabbit skips on his way, free from the bear’s claws.
Oh!
I laughed so hard, I sputtered and sprayed my coffee, I put my phone in the refrigerator and looked for it all morning, and I almost walked straight into a zinniga-zanniga tree myself.
What a marvelous tale to encapsulate how our worries sometimes run away with our imagination, the hypochondriacs hidden in every one of us to a certain degree poking fun at itself, and the societal pressures on perfect eyelashes playing into the bear’s psyche?
Sometimes, we need entire tomes to discuss these themes, other times, a lost story of Dr Seuss would do.
If you see me just for a day, with my nose transformed into a beautiful horn, and roaming the skies or plumbing the depths of the ocean, I can explain:
A Leap Wish?
“So, what do you wish can exist for one day only on Feb 29th? “ the son asks one evening.
“Hmm?” I am taken aback from the question, though I really shouldn’t be. The skies know I have had my fair share of them. But it still surprises me.
“It can’t be a person, but it can be a magical power, a creature that is long extinct etc. Like a leap year wish – a leap wish!” he says.
That was an intriguing thought. Something to wish for that only exists on Feb 29th. I thought, and thought about it shamefully for so long. Why was this so hard?
What would each of us like?
🐋“Hmm..maybe a chance to see our world from different perspectives? Like being a unicorn filled with magic and a narwhal who can dive deep and long?” I said. “Let me think about this a bit more. What would you want?” I asked him.
🦕Unsurprisingly, he came up with so many different things and versions, but finally settled on, “ I’d want dinosaurs to roam the Earth as they used to just for that one day, so we can see, how it all was for them.”
The husband said he would play the world to his advantage and ask to be able to teleport himself everywhere so he could experience a sampling of the world and make the most of 24 hours to make it 36 with the time differences.
“You and your can-do attitude. Can’t just take the 24 hours given to you – you have to optimize it to 36!” I chided him gently, though I admired him all the more for it, especially hearing what he had in mind.
🪸The coral reefs of the coast of Australia to the beaches in Brazil, a cold desert stop in the Gobi desert on the way to a hot one in the Thar desert or the Arabian one.
By the end of my conversation with him, I found myself thinking of longing and gratitude to live out our lives on this wondrous planet.
What would you like?
What about you? What would you like to experience that one day? Remember, it only lasts a day. For all you financial magnates, if you want a billion dollars to experience life as a billionaire, remember you get to be yourself with your old bank account the next day. That may make the remaining days that much more normal – be warned!
I spent the walk back pondering on how our life would be if we each got our wishes. Would the leap day every four years be wondrous, exciting, nerve-wracking, frightful, beautiful, scary?
We’ve all heard of the gypsy’s curse: May you get what you wish for! In this case, would it be too much for us to handle?
February has been the month of rainbows – at least here in the Bay Area. Even if we know the Science behind rainbows, they are special. We’d glance outside, and see the sun peeking out after the rains, and I’d run to see if the magic is there. That in itself is surely magical.
While there are many words to describe the love of sunsets, clouds, starry skies, the sun, the moon, eclipses, forests, rain, thunder and lightning, there isn’t really a word to describe the love of rainbows. No one word to capture the soaring of the heart when it spots the multi colored ring of the Earth’s horizons. The squealing of the young and the old as they charge outside to catch the magical light of this beautiful universe. Imagining how marvelous it must look to hummingbirds and those who can see a larger spectrum of light.
Rainbow Tales
Of course rainbows have enamored humankind for centuries.
🌈I can’t help thinking of the silly fable about the fox marrying the crow and throwing the garland up in the sky, and that is how a rainbow is formed, every time we spot one.
👰Greek myths have a goddess, Iris, who is both a messenger of the gods and a personification of the rainbow. In Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series, the demigods are able to use drachmas to communicate with the gods through a rainbow.
There are quiet walks and there are loud walks in quiet places.
Henry David Thoreau called it, “Taking the village with you.” or something to that effect. What he meant, I think, was that we took the problems occupying our minds and held onto them tightly, and a trifle obstinately, thereby making it harder for nature to soothe and calm. Really! The human mind is a strange thing. Sometimes, nothing sticks, and other times, nothing slides.
“I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walking
These walks are trying at best. I found myself fiddling with poetry to try and distract the mind from the village, and the people in it. It was a feeble attempt, and one that requires far more concentration to be approved by Bard/Gemini maybe, but it’ll do. It would have to do.
Poetry: Balm to the Soul
Was poetry not the balm to the soul?
The trees are tryingThe waters are waving
The swans are soothingThe squirrels are scampering
The deer are divineThe eagles are evocative
The vultures are volatileThe pelicans are pure
Yet the spiritRemains dispirited
Some days are tryingFor your mind is wavering
Just as I had managed to get nature to work its magic, I was summoned back to reality by three loud gentlemen discussing the virtues of housing all their data in the cloud, and how that reduced their costs. I found myself calculating storage costs and estimating budgets.
I looked resolutely at the clouds overhead and said loudly, “Nope – look at the real clouds!”. I may have startled a little wren foraging for food in the bushes nearby, and it took flight in an alarming manner after throwing me a reproachful glance.
Oh well!
Nature did do its work!
But, I found, on getting into the car, nature had done its work. It may have had to try harder and send a few more butterflies my way, but it did. I was much refreshed in mind and spirit, clearer in what I needed done.
I chuckled remembering Thoreau’s quote on Walking, and spending at least 4 hours a day in nature – a luxury most of us can seldom afford, but we can afford smaller bursts of it:
“I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least—and it is commonly more than that—sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements.”
We were walking at a time when everything around us was glowing in a golden hue. The sun was setting, highlighting the clouds in the horizon from within or behind, giving them a glorious gloriole. The recent storm had news channels talking of our favorite term in recent times – atmospheric rivers.
The actual river was flowing with muddy waters from the recent rains, the trail was still strewn with branches and twigs after the recent battering of the storms, the deer that usually had more space to graze were standing glumly off to the side for their favorite haunts were water-logged. Or at least I thought they stood glumly: they looked contented and happy with the fresh grass, and each other for company.
“Look at those clouds and the lighting from behind them!” I squealed.
“Oh please amma! You talk of nothing but countertops and cabinets these days!” said the son.
“I do not!” I said, mock-offended and a trifle sheepish. Well – the fellow was not entirely wrong. It was true, I was becoming one of those bores who go on and on about cabinets. I am trying to switch out the cabinets in our kitchen, and it has proved to be a task that had hidden depths to its complexity. Regardless – just then, I was talking about clouds and the sunset, and said so with a haughty sniff.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t think of how the hidden lighting would look under the cabinets.!” he said, and I laughed. I had not actually thought of it, but if the poor fellow thought his usually cloud-and-sunset-loving mother saw cabinets in clouds, I had scarred him indeed. Feeling suitably chastened, I promised to shelve all talk of cabinets for the walk. “Get it? Get it? Shelve talk of cabinets! Huh?”
He rolled his eyes, and though the clouds reminded me of the subtle grays and whites in certain countertops I had seen, I kept the opinion to myself, and we walked on chatting amiably of this-and-that.
Nourish-n-Cherish 