Update - New Blog

As evident from my lack of posts on this blog, I have not been writing much about literature, politics, nor engaging in my sometimes poetic emotional rants.  I have instead been writing a lot about running.  I've been running on a consistent basis now for 18 months, during which time I have run three half-marathons, one marathon, and two 10K races, not to mention countless training runs of varying distances.

I am not abandoning this blog entirely, as I am sure eventually I will circle back to writing about something other than running.  But for the moment, you can find me here: Just Go Run

Memory Flash

There are these moments where I catch myself forgetting I have a mother. Data files of her image, her voice, her smell, her clothing, the age spots on her hands, the feeling of her skin, the texture of her hair, and her various gazes, both harsh and soft, caring and cruel, relaxed and tense--remain hidden in the recesses of my brain. I have tried so hard to keep her out of my daily consciousness. But then, out of the blue, one of the data files will open in front of me and like a film screen, pieces of her will project on the walls all around me. And that is when it happens. That is when I realize that I spend most days in denial of her existence, only to be reminded in quick, unexpected, bolts of lightening.

Deconstructing the Past

Almost a year
since that phone call,
since I left the door open
for you to walk through
or even look through,
but you never came.

So many things
are different now,
but the pain hasn't left,
it just hides in the walls
most days, but tonight
it crept out like a spider.

It's hard to look backwards,
I cannot even look at your picture
for more than a few seconds,
seeing your image forces me
to acknowledge you still exist,
reminds me you're still alone.

In those first few months
a hailstorm of memories
flashed through my mind,
all the moments I could
never understand in a rapid-fire
slide show, leaving me breathless.

I took to sorting them all,
assigning categories,
then filed them away
one by one. You were always
organized, one trait I will
not fight inheriting . . .

That Word

I do not want to hear it spoken,
that familiar, yet unfamiliar word.

She's not there anymore,
but then again, she never was.

I used to believe she was real.
But now I realize I was living off hope.

I woke up one day,
and decided I was done,
I couldn't say it.

The sensation of comfort one should feel,
has been replaced with a permanent emptiness.

So please don't ask me to say it,
or use it, because I have no mother.

Being Present

In my last post, I included an excerpt which in sum, says to slow down enough to be present and attentive, to struggle against the need to always be doing something. In the last month, I have tried to take the time to do just that, to be more attentive, and to reflect.

When you slow down enough, to feel your heart beating, to hear the ticking clock and murmur of voices blur into the background, there is a space left. Only in that space, can the seeds of awareness grow, can the mind take a breath and reflect, and is the heart left to open up and shed all the pain that you've housed and hidden away.

It is so easy to keep the mind distracted, especially for those of us striving to maintain everything that is outward, professional lives, social lives, and our intimate lives. For the type A, which I admit I am, you want everything, but there is a cost. You want to excel in every part of your life, but there comes a moment when you realize that your efforts to excel can keep you from being happy. You start putting everything and everyone ahead of yourself, you focus on the views of others. Ultimately, you can lose yourself.

Growing up, my biggest concern in life was just getting out of the house. I spent as much time as I could out of the house, away from my mother. I exerted so much energy trying to cope with the destructive environment that I had to wake up and return to every day. Once I entered college, and had successfully separated myself from the grips of my mother, at least physically (although not financially), I was too busy with class, studying, friends, and partying to allow room for much spiritual or emotional growth. Soon after, I went to law school which left even less time to let myself emotionally breath. The idea of creating some sort of space in which to reflect on anything other than cases, rules, and the IRAC method, was simply not in my mind.

I find myself now, trying to look back at the past several years through a new lens. Now armed with the recent revelation that all that my mother did, and continues to do, is neither my fault, nor within my power to change, I am attempting to uncover the scars of old wounds, instead of simply hiding them. I am forcing myself to slow down, to be attentive, and open my heart.

Update

I haven't written for months, partly because I've been really busy and partly because I haven't been in the mood to sit down and write posts.

In late July, I took the California Bar Exam. In August, I traveled to France for vacation. In September, I started my job. In early November I was DELIGHTED that people got out and voted for Barack Obama and for the first time in my life was proud of and hopeful for the United States. Most recently, on November 21st, I got my results from the bar exam: I PASSED!

I am still settling into my job, enjoying being able to finally call myself a lawyer after three years of law school, three days of the bar exam, and months of waiting. That's about it for now. I hope to get back into writing soon.

Gun Shots at 3:23am

It's 3:23 am and I hear it, four distinct gun shots, thoughtful, spaced evenly with two seconds between each crack. I picture what lies on the other side of that short barrel.

I picture a man running, because I hear no tires screech. There is no one there, to help the fallen one.

There are no sirens, no screams. The night is silent.

And so I lie there, for hours readjusting the pillow, staring up at the ceiling, and rustling my legs free from the sheets. It's cold, but I don't want to get up to turn off the fan, I don't want to leave the bed or approach the windows.

The air is still outside, and I wonder if the blood is on the sidewalk, or the street, or perhaps on someone's front lawn; is anyone there, is anyone watching, is anyone crying now.

Engaged!

This past weekend, on July 5th, 2008 I got engaged! It was the six year anniversary of our first "night out." We both designed the ring over several months, but I hadn't ever seen it all put together. It turned out perfectly!!

Many people commented that it took the romance out of the process by having me participate in the design process and know what the ring was going to look like. I still believe that the process of designing it, over several months, added meaning to the process instead of taking it away. The engagement ring is something you will hopefully wear the rest of your life, and these days it makes sense to give a woman the ability to have some say in that process.

The proposal was a complete surprise and I really enjoyed the traditional moment when it finally happened.

WALL-E: So worth the trip and the $10

Just got back from seeing WALL-E at the theatre. The movie was definitely worth the $10 movie ticket! I never knew that a robot could be so expressive, or that robots in love could actually bring a tear to my eye, but it's true. Once again Pixar has created an ingenious animated film, and this one even includes social commentary which I will let viewers pick up on themselves (pretty clear in the first 5 minutes of the film, then again about 30 minutes in).

Lovin' My CSA Box

I recently signed up to have organic produce delivered to my home from local farms. The "CSA" box as it is often called, which stands for Community Supported Agriculture, is really starting to catch on. I signed up for Planet Organics, which delivers farm fresh fruits and vegetables from five local farms in and around the Bay Area.

I scheduled my delivery for this past Tuesday. As I left the house at around 8:30am, the box was already at my door! The produce comes in a reusable green plastic container that you leave for them to pick up when they drop off your next delivery. I opened the box, and at first had a slight feeling of disappointment. The vegetables and fruit are simply sitting in the box, not grouped in bags or containers (except for the blueberries), just sitting there sort of helpless.

But then I thought, this is not the supermarket, this is not the heavily plastic-wrapped goods found at large chain stores (or even Trader Joes). No, this is my CSA box, and the whole reason I am ordering this delivery is because it is organic, travels a very short distance, and is not wrapped in excessive and unnecessary plastic. Therefore, I should not complain with it arrives in a box, not otherwise packaged or wrapped individually.

Last night we had the fresh zucchini and orange tomatoes in our Farfalle pasta dish--they were excellent! Today I had one of the plums, which was equally delicious.

Gradually, I am trying to re-connect with food in a way that strips it of everything that is corporate, industrial, and processed. I feel very lucky to have the option of a local CSA as well as a weekly and year-round farmer's market less than a mile from where I live.

Today, while picking up a few paper-related products at Safeway, I stood in line watching the people behind me unload the items from their cart. Their ENTIRE cart was filled with boxed, processed, frozen foods--many of which were part of the Weight Watchers brand of food products. There was not a single un-processed item in their entire cart, not one. I looked on in amazement --looking for signs that perhaps this was not their normal order. Everything they bought, they bought two or three of the item. There weren't even any frozen "whole" foods, such as frozen vegetables or frozen fruit. Everything was a heavily processed frozen "dinner" or "dessert." I was instantly reminded that the majority of the nation is not eating simple, unprocessed, fruits of the earth. Instead, people are eating foods that are injected with an overabundance of corn or soy products, few nutrients, and too much fat or in the alternative a whole lot of fake sugars.

All I can say is that I cherish real food, touched only by sun, water, earth, insects, animals, and of course the human hands that tended the crops. I choose to make political statements not only through my vote, but with what I choose to consume and not consume. If people start/continue to make political statements with their purchasing power, especially over food, more will change than in any single Congressional term. Where there is demand, there will be supply--help put a dent in the demand!!!

Phrase of the Month "Ugh"

Six weeks until the dreaded three-day California Bar Exam. Realizing this week that I need to pick up the pace and actually start studying 6 hours after class each day, instead of only 4. Can no longer easily take off an afternoon, and may have to cancel some plans in the near future.

Today, took first practice 3hr Performance Test and sort of liked the change from the MBE and Essay monotony of late. Also took a long MBE practice set this afternoon and found that I am already starting to forget the stuff I crammed in my head during the first four weeks and need to start re-reviewing again to make it stick.

Little more reading, then bed . . . ugh.

Been A While

It has been a while, a long while, since I have posted anything.

As a general update, I graduated from law school this past May and now I am studying for the California Bar Exam. In other words, my days are filled with watered-down, generally phrased legal rules and doctrines that I am doing my best to memorize.

Below are the books I have recently read; they were both excellent! I am looking forward to reading Hosseini's most recent book "A Thousand Splendid Suns."

More later . . .

UPCOMING EVENT

The University of California, Hastings College of the Law and
the Monterey Institute of International Studies
present:

SURVIVING CLIMATE CHANGE: ADAPTATION AND INNOVATION

The Conference will be held at:
U.C. Hastings in Mary Kay Kane Hall, 200 McAllister Street, San Francisco

The 2008 Hastings Climate Change Conference will address public and private strategies for adapting to the impact of climate change on economic development and human rights, fostering innovation and building resiliency.

The Keynote Speakers include:
Mary Nichols, Chair of the California Air Resources Board and
San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom

The Conference features speakers and panels on the following subjects:
• Strategic Complements: Adaptation and Reducing Greenhouse Gases
• The Impact of Climate Change on Development and Human Rights
• Financing Adaptation and Innovation
• Building Resiliency
• Acting Locally
• Urban Strategies for Coping with Climate Change
• Private Market Responses

Co-Sponsors of the Conference:
• Hastings West-Northwest Journal of Environmental Law & Policy
• Hastings International and Comparative Law Review

What's Left After

For a friend who recently ended a relationship. I think that the hardest part of break-ups, is getting through the identity crisis that is triggered afterwards. What was half of your life--or at least a large part of your life--is gone. You are no longer Mary & Joe anymore, you are just Mary or just Joe. While spending time alone can be liberating, it can be frightening at first. This poem is about dealing with these challenges.

What's Left After

Sitting on the floor, your
back against the door,
knees crouched in at your chest.

He left hours ago, but the fabric
of your clothes and sheets, is
still saturated with his scent.

Your heart begins to race
at the sound of footsteps in
the stairwell, but the sound fades--
and the room grows quiet.

Across the room, your dinner plate
sits on the kitchen counter,
the vegetables withered and cold,
the meat limp.

You just need a little more time,
to figure out what's left of you
now that he's gone.

Fall Food

PUMPKIN SOUP with PUMPKIN BREAD

At this time of year, when the air gets a little cooler, the leaves change, and entryways are all accented with pumpkins, I love cooking seasonal dishes. Although the pumpkin puree used in this dish was not from the farmer's market, the carrots, celery, cilantro, onion, and garlic were!

Favorite Movie of 2007: "After the Wedding"

This movie is absolutely exquisite. It is a Danish movie with English subtitles. The cinematography is beautiful, specifically the angles of the characters (pay attention to where the camera focuses) as well as the fleeting images througout the film which signify a lot and offer foreshadowing. These second long frames are not pointless, take note of them.

The acting is excellent, each character is fully developed and you feel as though you understand each character more than in most movies. You will cry while watching this movie, but you will hopefully adore the richness of the film and the story. I have seen it twice and plan to continue to watch it again and again.

Rating: A+

Why You Shouldn't Go To Law School

Today's Wall Street Journal included an article entitled: "Hard Case: Job Market Wanes for U.S. Lawyers: Growth of Legal Sector Lags Broader Economy, Law Schools Proliferate."

As I embark on my third year in law school, I find this article particularly relevant, as feelings of regret, doubt, fear, and desperation are mounting despite the fact that it is only September. I have heard so many young college kids, or recent graduates, talk about how they'll go to law school as if it is the answer to their problems, the gateway to a pot of gold. Unfortunately, only a select few will find themselves surrounded in riches. But more to the point, life for many who do excel is not what most of us would call enjoyable. Those who do excel will log countless hours getting to, and staying at, the top, and likely do not have a great deal of time for relationships or a social life.

Surfing the web, I also found this very good reason not to attend law school:

Reason 13. Bad Eyes, Bad Backs, General Sickliness

During your three years of pre-Esquire servitude, you are almost guaranteed to develop one or all of the following physical deformities: bad eyes, a bad back and general sickliness.
General Sickliness: Nowhere breathes a weaker-constitutioned, more out of shape, more pallid group than in a law school classroom. Most within their walls suffer from nonspecific symptoms of exhaustion, mild nausea and poor circulation. When consulted, doctors normally shrug and smile maliciously--having felt even worse throughout med school. Sufferers--and that includes almost all law students, with the possible exceptions of The Drudge, The Compulsive Talker and The Ass Kisser--want to go to bed and pull the covers over their heads for three years. Of those who do, 100% have reportedly been cured. The great suffering majority, however, swig from bottles of Maalox and plug along, saving their bile for that savorous day when they file their first medical malpractice action. . .
From Don't be a Fool--Stay Out of School; 29 Reasons Not to Go to Law School by Ralph Warner, Toni Ihara & Barbara Kate Repa.

This I can particularly relate to. Since entering law school I have developed a bursitis in my left hip joint as well as snapping hip syndrome (due to too much sitting), as well as slight onset of drier, older looking skin around my eyes that I am constantly battling with my weapon of choice: Anti-wrinkle smoothing cream (likely meant for women over the age of 40). I of course, am not in as bad as shape as some others because I try my best to continue going to the gym, although at the moment I am not in shape and sorely in need of several hours on the elliptical followed by a long run. I hope to God that I can afford lypo when I get a job.

Advice: Pursue the other "dreams" you have and think through all other alternatives before going to law school. Unless of course you are destined for success at one of the Ivy's and you care little for having an active social life.

Insight before Flight

Over the past twent-six years I have flown numerous times, the majority of those times alone. The first time I flew toute seule, I was in middle school. It was the summer after my mother served my father with divorce papers, which occurred in May. I was sent to stay with my cousins in Northern California, 3000 miles away from home, so that I would be shielded from the chaos and also out of my parents already distressed hair. That summer offered me a great deal of relaxation and provided an escape from a home that often felt more like a war zone, where I was forced to take sides in a political war I opposed. The years that followed the divorce have a great deal to do with the pleasure I get from flying alone.

It wasn’t until I attended college that I began to fly alone more frequently, and it was at this time that I began to take interest in the feelings that seemed to surface while I wandered and waited in the airport. First and foremost, I felt incredibly independent flying alone, managing my baggage, finding the gate, waiting to board, and immersing myself in a book. I enjoyed the feeling of people’s eyes sizing me up, and especially the seldom occurrence where a man’s eyes would remain fixed on me for more than few seconds. I like the mystery of the airport, where no one knows a thing about me (other than the security staff and airline attendants) where I am from, where I am traveling, why I am traveling. No one knows what I am escaping or to what I am forced to return. Of course for a while, the former was college and the latter was home—a home that housed only miserable memories for me for a very long time.

Unlike cafes, or libraries, or park benches, the airport has often allowed me the most clarity of thought. Perhaps this is because for a time, the airport was one of few places where I could escape all pressures, all echoes of criticism and unmet expectations. Of course the gift of clarity often brought sadness, or feelings of emptiness. Regardless, it is the place where I have undoubtedly gained insight on the happenings and people in my life.

The past several years, I noticed that the clarity I felt during my college years had faded, and all but disappeared. That is, until this very trip from Alaska back to California, where I now reside. I have been gone for six weeks, the longest time I have been alone, in a sense, for four years. Although I am generally very happy with my life, I have found in these past six weeks that I am a creature dependant upon the ability to escape. This is another trait, or perhaps more accurately called a habit, that I have acquired from my father, who now lives overseas.

I decided to go to Alaska for a summer legal internship last November. It was a decision that I took very little time to digest, perhaps only a week in full, but one that I in no way regret. However, for several months I feared that I had made the wrong decision, that I was leaving behind my life and that perhaps when I returned it would no longer be intact. This year, our fifth year together, has been the most difficult one for my relationship. It was for that reason I feared that I was doing more than leaving for ten weeks, that it was possible I was abandoning a relationship I was tired of fixing.

Turning on my computer, waiting for the screen to load, I notice I am fidgeting in the same way that my father does. I rustle my middle and forefingers against my thumb. Last time I saw my father type, I remember him pausing, thinking of the next phrase to write, and in those moments where the wheels in his mind were turning fast, his fingers moved quickly as if to rub an invisible substance on his skin. I don’t know how we pick up these minor habits, habits with no purpose, habits which have never been pushed upon us. This fidgeting of my fathers hands, and now my own, seems to signify their frustration.

I think that one very valuable trait, which seems to be increasingly loosing its glory, is the ability to spend time alone for the sole purpose of seeking clarity of thought. In addition to granting perspective on the troubles and worries of life, spending significant time apart from loved ones also grants a rebirth of independence. I am not speaking of the sort of rebelious independence that you seek as an adolescent, but an independence which reminds you that you are more than the relationships you are in, the jobs you take, and the city where you live. Remembering the thoughts which propped up in one's mind before life got too busy to eat sitting down and learning how to enjoy nights alone--a sort of independence from all habits, all routines, and all roles.

What Are You Eating ? Books About Food

Although I'm sure you remember the hoopla about Michael Pollen's Omnivore's Dilemma in 2006, if you have not yet picked it up to read, I seriously suggest that you do. If you are interested in finding out about American Industrial Agriculture, Industrial Organic, the reason that cows should not be fed corn, and the way to make your food selection not only a sustainable act, but a political act--then you must read this book.

Although I'm sure you remember the hoopla about Michael Pollen's Omnivore's Dilemma in 2006, if you have not yet picked it up to read, I seriously suggest that you do. If you are interested in finding out about American Industrial Agriculture, Industrial Organic, the reason that cows should not be fed corn, and the way to make your food selection not only a sustainable act, but a political act--then you must read this book.

Micheal Pollen has taken detailed information about the food we eat, how it is grown or raised, how it is processed, how it gets to our hungry mouths, and the mark that its production leaves on the environment.

I finally had the chance to read this exquisite book during the last month, and found it increasingly difficult to put down, even though I am living with almost 24 hours of daylight and numerous outdoor activities to take the place of reading.

Not only is the book brimming with fascinating and useful information, but Pollen discusses and quotes various other fantastic less well-known (at least to me) writers who have written on the subject of farming.

This book has re-inspired me, it has reminded me of the values I hold in food, in treating the earth, and in treating animals. I have started a list of the things I want to do, things I have only thought about for brief moments during the past several years. I am now calling myself to action, and have finally decided that yes, what I eat is more than carbs fat and protein, it is a political statement, it is my decision not only to nourish myself and to respect the earth, but to adamantly oppose industrial agriculture. Local is the only sustainable choice--everything else has costs. I am also hell-bent on getting rid of my affinity for soda.

Other books of interest, that I haven't yet read but are sitting on my shelf:

And . . .

And . . .

The Return

It takes a trip away
to regain those things
you lost in the comfort
of his daily presence.

Learning how to sleep
without him, has somehow
helped you to dream again
and cherish the memory of his warmth.

That sprint at the end of your run,
made you lose your breath
but helped find that feeling
you forgot existed.

It took a few walks,
long and quiet, to figure out
where you came from,
and where you want to go.

You will return to
his arms, but with
this freedom and with
this confidence.

Now you're ready--
ready to walk with him.