Currently listening to: KOIT, Counting Crows, KALX, dog eyes, freestyle.
Currently reading: The American (river) by Margaret Sanborn; Yokohama, California by Toshio Mori (just really excellent); Spacetime Physics by Taylor/Wheeler.
Really being intentional about my bonsai tree. Coaching myself about being a parent beyond Sawyer getting to specific milestones, gaining specific abilities, being able to do specific, practical things. Trying to concern myself more with questions like: how will he remember this? am I taking the time to do the things that really matter? am I recognizing that Sawyer is a human and will have emotions, will go through difficult things, will be confused, will be disappointed? how do I guide him through all of those icky things? I can’t protect him from all of those things. That is really hard to remember. That is something daily I have to remember. I can get so caught up in trying to prevent those things, and many others, that I forget my real job is to be there with him through those things and to help as best I can. To only help as best I can. And to love him.
I’m happy baseball is starting back up. I wish I could go to a lot of Giants and Cal baseball games. That might be something I want to spend my time doing a lot of when I get older.
I haven’t been writing a lot since my mom died. I’m starting these posts to maybe emerge from that. The words and feelings are there but I can’t write. I don’t know. I don’t know what that’s about. It’s not that I don’t want to write it’s just that every time I start nothing comes. It’s all very matter of fact. Like I want to report on my sadness. Like I want to log my crying. Like I want to list all of the things I miss and all of the things that I will miss for the rest of my life. I just really miss my mom. Maybe all extreme loss is about relearning what life means or is meant for after that loss. Is that the hardest lesson? is it the hardest lesson that’s never learned? it feels like endless homework. I want the homework to be done so I can go to the kitchen and see my mom making dinner (probably Hamburger Helper) and feel cozy and safe and happy because I know where I’m going. Crying.
I’m almost done. My brain has just really been wandering lately around relativity and time and what else I can start to know while I’m still here. It’s really hard stuff. I have been reading the book for a couple months and I just finished the first chapter. It’s really interesting stuff. It says things like time and distance are different for observers in different reference frames. But why? it tells you why and that’s what takes a long time. It’s not because the math is hard it’s because the ideas are hard and so different from our daily experience and how we’re taught to think about the world…and how we’re taught to observe the world. It’s another great reminder that the world is so much bigger than what we make ourselves so concerned with. Like concerned to the point that it steals our joy. It’s fun to be small. It’s easier to be small. It’s easier to love and be happy when it’s small. It’s easier to love and be happy thinking about ourselves as a part, a piece.
You can find a reference frame where two events happen at the same time, or find a reference frame where they happen in the same spot. You can find a reference frame that changes the temporal order of events. How wacky is that and how beautiful. And usually “events” are sub-atomic, speed of light stuff. So far outside of our experience. But still. What are we made up of but those things? What is our brain made up of but those things? Really wacky and beautiful.
see ya later
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