Beets alone (, a girl can live on)

I want to tell you how utterly marvellous life is this last week. Peaches and cream. Milk and honey. Nutella and enchilada sauce. Beets and cauliflower. Sad and joyful tears. The best session yet at Pacifica and so many stories I want to tell, not even counting the confidential ones, which don’t count anyway. Lovely new moments with lovely new friends. Three gorgeous spirited nights and mornings and days inbetween with gorgeous spirited Amy. A fabulous surprise visit with Chippy (the name just sticks, what can I say? We’ll fix that eventually), who let me drive his terribly sweet car. And reading! Thesis research is already queuing up, ready to go. More than I have words for.

I got home today for the first time since last Sunday night, and after delicious conversation and a luxurious read I set to cleaning my whole studio top to bottom, fueled by the new double live tom waits album and beet greens (and sugarplums, in lieu of hot cocoa).

Driving home from Pacifica with Chara, we had an interesting conversation about enough-ness.

I was saying how after my experience of dropping nearly 30 lbs this year without even trying, simply from doing my emotional work and letting go of so much I’d been dragging around with me for years — how I have utter faith in that process, that it’s enough to just do my work. I said how I wished I could give that faith to someone else, knowing that from the other side of experiencing it it seems such an impossibility. Chara echoed that “it’s enough,” the power of “it’s enough,” and talking about it I recalled a conversation with Mom, in the Spring of 2007.

I was feeling particularly upset — sad and guilty — about going back to Portland after visiting her, knowing how little time we had left together. Mom simply looked at me and said, “It’s enough. However much time there is, it is enough.” She was soothing me. And at the same time she was talking about her own death — her own life, her peace with it all. That one sentence will carry me through the rest of mine.

Consider the power of “it’s enough.”

At Pacifica last, I talked with Epona about whale dreams. I mentioned I’d only ever had one — of Orcas in the Willamette, swimming South — and as if on cue, that night beside Amy, I dreamed:

I stand on a bridge. Last time I dreamed of whales in the river the view was top down, but now I am standing on the river’s bridge and it is wide, and its expanse is part of the larger expanse of a great city — the river is so wide. And there can be no mistake that I am standing on the bridge with my own two feet, because there are massive awesome creatures in the river, there are giant Blue Whales swimming there, right there in the river! The mass of their bodies is visceral. I can feel Mom’s spirit, her whale love. I can see them. Every time the Blue Whales heave their massive tails, the water heaves and the bridge itself heaves, the whole world pulses and the very ground rolls and quakes with their motion.

Enough:

Origin:

O.E. genog, a common Gmc. formation (cf. O.N. gnogr, O.Fris. enoch, Goth. ganohs, Ger. genug),

from ge- “with, together” + root -nah, from PIE *nak- “reach, attain” (cf. Skt. asnoti “reaches,” Hittite ninikzi “lifts, raises,” Lith. nesti “to bear, carry,” L. nancisci “to obtain”).

Enough = lifting / reaching / raising / bearing / together. Attaining / with.

Well I’ll be.

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~ by Arrrow Marie on January 9, 2010.

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