thank you Roxi

my sister lost power at her house after some bad winds on sunday night. so she spent the day with us on monday and tuesday, since our house was not affected by the wind.
wow, what a difference having 2 adults instead of just one taking care of children. all i have to say is i know why they say "it takes a village to raise one child".
i feel extremely lucky to have my sister so close to me (not only when the power is out either...).

some kid news:
aiyana has been saying a lot of new words in the past week or so. it's like, "the floodgates broke open", as one friend put it. she can express herself so much more now, and she loves it. i do too. not only is it cute, but it makes for a lot less frustration and misunderstanding.

another really exciting development is that aiyana started going on the potty. wow, what a relief not having to change, not to mention clean, all those diapers. it's only been a week that she's been doing this, but she is so excited about it, and my life is easier. she loves coming to tell me when she has to go, pulling on my pants to guide me to the bathroom. she pees and poops on the toilet (we have a little seat on top of it so she won't fall in), and when she's done, she wants to wipe, flush and wash her hands all by herself. she refuses to wear diapers now, and wants regular underware like her sister. i still want to put diapers on her when we go out, bc i don't want any accident at the library, or wherever we're going, but usually she fights me on it (and i give in)...

what's most interesting to me is that our potty training thing is a lot more about communication and bonding than it is about actually peeing and pooping. aiyana communicates a lot with her eyes, body, and lately speech, but if i'm not receptive to it, and if i don't communicate back to her, then i don't think things would happen as they do now. maybe i'm not expressing myself all that well. what i mean to say is that this potty training has become another opportunity for us to bond and communicate.

sleeping, on the other hand, hasn't been so good lately. aiyana, for some reason, has been nursing like crazy throughout the night. i thought it was teeth related, but i'm not sure now. something else may be going on, have to figure it out. all i know is that i am tired in the morning and throughout the day. but that's been my story for the past 3 years, no news here...

having trouble writing today, mind is a little foggy, so let me stop here...

peace

tough easter

i wish i could brush things over and say what a nice easter we had. but it feels better to say the truth. or as close as possible.

it was tough. ed and i had a hard time during the day, we could not communicate, we were getting on each other in a bad way, and we both came down pretty hard. then it was time to go over to his parents' for dinner, and we all got in the car, but in less that 1 mile, ed decided that he couldn't do it and wanted to come back home. which i felt as well, but i also thought that it wasn't fair to his family and to the kids not to go, esp. since his mom spent lots of energy cooking and preparing, and sena was really looking fwd to the whole thing...

so i told ed that he could go home and i still go to his parents' with the kids. this is what we did, and things went ok. sena had a really good time coloring eggs at granma's, and aiyana had fun riding her trycicle indoors, etc. i was ok, just tried to be in the moment and answer everyone's questions as to where ed was, what happened, etc. i didn't make anything up, i just told them the truth, without getting into too much detail, uinless they kept asking. ed's dad was worried, but i told him these things happen and everything would be ok soon.

i left the house at around 8pm, and went home. sena fell asleep in the car. ed and i talked a little when i got home, and things were ok. not much to say, we both felt pretty drained, but at least the energy btw us wasn't too bad. i went to bed around 9:30.

i had a restless night. seemed like the day's feelings spilled over into my dreams, and gave me no peace. aiyana's teething again too, so that's not too conducive to peaceful sleep either.

sometime during the night i had a dream.
in my dream, i was on a journey. it wasn't an easy or pleasant journey. feelings of restlessness, doubt, insecurity, and nagging questions of the fundamental type were proeminent. eventually i came to a cliff beyond where the path ended. it was the end of my journey.

from the cliff, i could see the ocean, or rather the inlet to the ocean. it was like a bay, and all there was was water and the horizon. the scene was pretty drab, monochrome, brown, not too exciting. i stood there and watched, feeling tired from my journey; and then slowly, the colors started to change. the water took on brilliant, clear shades of blue and green. the sky turned bright blue. the sun shone clearly on the horizon. the feeling came over me that everything was allright. i felt energy flowing through me, and knowledge came in the form of a silent voice. it said:

some people never get to experience the world, they go straight into the sun. (i knew that this was referring to children that never experience birth, but die in their mother's woumbs). the rest of us experience life, (just as i had experienced my journey to the cliff), and it's not usually peaceful, or beautiful, or easy. but in the end, we all go into the sun. i knew and felt, as i heard this, that going into the sun was the ultimate release. it just felt amazing.

then i woke up. a little shaken from the night's retlessness, but then i remembered the dream and my whole outlook for the day changed, became much more positive. so although i'm still tired now, i feel very peaceful and calm.
just thought i'd share this.

so...
rock on, or whatever moves you,
peace

pics from last w/kend in mtl

post-montreal blues

it's been a long time i didn't get these, but i have to admit that i'm under a spell of post-montreal blues. not for the city itself, but for the people that i still feel strongly connected to there.

i was in montreal thursday through sunday last week. drove up on thursday, which went well, considering that it was just me and the little ones. i had borrowed a car dvd player from the library (my sister's suggestion), and it came in very handy. plug them in, as ed loves to say... well, it works...

on friday, i spent a couple of hrs by myself. went downtown and drove around trying to find parking, no easy task. found a spot near le faubourg, then walked around some, and sat in a Second Cup reading and writing. i felt like a stranger in the city. people seemed cold and disconnected. nobody looked each other in the eyes, esp. as they're walking on the street. i felt alienated from the whole thing. but it was still interesting to sit and observe...

saturday was a whole different story. finally the city came to life again, in my heart. i felt connected to it, and that was because i got to see my friends. it was so nice to feel that closeness again. saturday was a great day, i didn't want it to end.

on suday, we drove back home. i tried not to feel sad about leaving mtl, but i could not help it. the drive went well again, but i found that my mind was distracted, and it was hard to focus on the kids. i felt like when i crossed the US/Canada border, i also had to cross a border in my heart: my old life, of a single woman, versus my new life, as a mother, etc. or something like that. of course it's not so well defined, this border, the spaces mix and bleed into each other...

on my drive back, i was moved by the realization of how supportive my parents are trying to be. my mom really tried to give me time alone, knowing how much i need it. so she (and my dad) took the kids as much as possible, and encouraged me to go out and have fun. my dad also tried to help in his way: he cooked breakfast for us while i packed my stuff on sunday, he cleaned my car (it really needed it), and checked the oil; and basically he tried to assist with any practical thing that needed to be done.

i feel so grateful for my family and friends.

peace!

on having quit my job

some people wanted to know how i felt about quitting my job as time went on.
well, it's been about 5 months now, and i can honestly say that except for one anxious dream, i've had absolutely no regrets about quitting. (in the dream, i still had to make a decision whether to quit or not, and i felt very anxious about it, bc i felt that i liked my job and i was sad about not doing it anymore.)

so while it's true that i liked some parts of my job quite a bit, i can't say that i miss my job at all. my days are full, and i am doing what i most want to be doing at this time in my life. i feel that the time i spend with my children is precious, and i can tell that being together every day is making a huge positive difference in our lives.

one thing, which i am very grateful for, is that money is not an issue right now for my family. so i have the option of staying home w/o feeling any financial pressure. i know that many families are not that lucky. for us, given our lifestyle, and the fact that ed is still working, we feel comfortable with our situation.

i just recently realized that i'm very grateful to my parents for guiding me into my engineering career. the fact that i worked for 10 years in this field, and was able to save some money, is what allows me to feel free to make a different choice right now - whether that is to stay home w my kids, or maybe to pursue a different interest in a few years.

so yeah, it was pretty hard to decide to give up my job, for many reasons, but once i did it, i never regretted it (so far), and my new life actually turns out to be even better than i had imagined. this is where my heart is, and i feel extremely lucky to be in this situation.

peace

welcome spring!

wow, what a last couple of days! i feel great!
my sister and i just went for a walk, from my house to starbucks. it's gorgeous outside, sunny and comfortable. we had 2 strollers with us, and my sister was also carrying julia in her sling. sena and aiyana really enjoyed themselves, except for the part where they both wanted me to push them, and of course i can't push 2 strollers at once...but it all got resolved, my sister and i taking turns pushing the strollers. julia slept most of the time, but when awake she was happy as usual. i've never seen an easier, more content baby!!!

yesterday was also a gorgeous day, even warmer than today (70F), although less sunny. my sister and i and all the girlies went to horsebarn hill at uconn. we visited the horses, sheep and cows. the sheep had lots of little lambs running around, which was fun to watch. but the most interesting was watching the cows, bc a few of them are calving right now. we saw a few calves that must've just been born, bc they were still wet and shiny, and barely able to stand. then there were some cows, obviously very pregnant and just about ready to give birth. one cow was actually in labor, and we got to watch her for a while. at one point i thought the calf was about to come out, but then sena and aiyana started getting restless, and we had to leave.

i would love to watch a birth - although i've experienced my own, being there for someone else's holds a special fascination for me. maybe one day. i'll have to get the word out there that i'd like to attend birth as a support person, or clean-up lady, or anything at all, just to be part of it...and maybe someone in our community will call me up....

tomorrow i'm going to montreal. i'm getting really excited about it, esp. since the weather is supposed to be good, which means that i can do some walking around. i am a little anxious too, mostly about the drive, which could be challenging with 2 little kids. also, i'm hoping that once i'm in montreal, sena and aiyana will want to spend some time w my parents so that i can have some time to myself... that would be really great.

enjoy this beautiful time of year....

peace

learning how to roller-skate

weird "endif" statements

i'm sorry for the weird "endif" type of statements that appear randomly in some of my postings. i think they have to do with the fact that i write my stuff on my laptop at home, whenever i have time, and then copy and paste it into my blog when i get a chance to be online. i've been using wordpad to on my laptop, but i'm switching to notepad in the hope that there won't be any more weird characters and statements.
i'm not all that computer savvy, not to mention that i barely have time to write my stuff, forget about formatting it... but hopefuly this will work.

peace

how i'm feeling this morning...

i have my family.
i have my good friends.
i have the trees, and the birds.
i have the song of the river,
and the sound of the waves.

i have my writing.
i have my dreams.

i have everything.

i have some knowledge of myself,
and some of you.

i have nothing,
i let it all go.

i have this feeling of elation.
i understand pain, frustration, disappointment,
you know, all that.

i know peace within myself.
i know crazyness.
i know sweet and salty tears,
i know how to laugh.

i'm learning how to love -
i've always known how to love.

i know truth and contradiction,
know that often they're the same.

i love knowing that i'm nothing, know nothing.

i have everything.

the red tent

i've been reading this book since last sunday (when ed took the kids and gave me about two hours to myself, which felt delicious). i heard about it before, heard that it was like the bible, but written from a woman's perspective. i can't really comment on that, bc i never read the bible. but, i can definitely say that i love it, and recommend it - what draws me to it the most is its descriptions of women's lives, from childhood to old age, in a time and place much different than my own. i love the bonds that tie these women together, and the gritty texture of their lives, with all their sorrows and joys.

peace march

a week ago, ed, aiyana and i went to a local peace rally. it was a small thing, 50 people or less marching together for 10 blocks. we stopped in a park, listened to a speech, and then marched back. it felt good to be part of something like this again. in he past, we used to go to big peace rallies in DC in NYC, but it's been much harder with the kids, so now we try to go to small, local ones. i always like the combined energy of the people who get together at these things. it's exciting, i like feeling like i'm part of something larger than my immediate, mundane concerns. but one thing bothered me at this last rally.

on our walk back from the speech, i noticed a young woman walking in front of me with a large poster mounted high on a stick. the poster depicted a mother, dressed in black clothes, wearing black head-dress, and carrying, in her arms, the limp body of a small child. the child, her child, was naked and dead. blood was trickling from the side of his body. as soon as my eyes landed on this picture, i had the knee-jerk reaction which i always get when i see such things. i got choked up, my stomach felt like it wanted to turn inside out, and my eyes started filling with tears. i didn't say anything, just kept walking and looking at the poster. i could not take my eyes off it, and i suddenly felt terribly sad and lonely. the excitement of the gathering, the feeling of a good cause, all of that, gone. although the poster seemed to fit in with the theme of the march, somehow, i felt unease. something felt wrong, but i couldn't put words to it.

finally, i just turned to ed, who was pushing aiyana's stroller, unaware of what i was feeling. i pointed to the poster and said to him, "i hope that when they made that, they did it with a lot of respect". it was a weird thing to say, in a way, and i had to elaborate it for myself and for ed's sake. i think that what i wanted to say is that i hope they didn't just use that picture lightly. it was such a powerful image, and it should not be thrown around lightly. people who've lost children are suffering greatly, and i feel that their pain should not be used for any purpose without the utmost respect. i'm not conveying what i felt really well, but maybe you get the idea...

i actually had he same feeling when i walked in a cafe today, and saw a book on display. it was about a boy soldier, from sierra leone, about the terrible things he had been through. his own account of war, how he was drawn into it and how he eventually escaped it. anyway, as soon as i saw the book, i knew it was powerful. yet, i had that feeling again, something sour coming up inside me. i felt, here's this crazy, heart-wrenching story being used as entertainment for people sipping coffee in their spare time. it's such a fuzzy issue, bc i do think that these stories need to be told, we all need to know them and ache for them and do our best to make things easier, lighter, etc. yet, a part of me feels like these stories are being used as entertainment, which means that some people's pain are used for other's "fun".

i don't really see any solution to this. all i can think of is that when i read or come accross stories / images like these, i do want to take them seriously, i want to let them come in and touch me. maybe what i'm trying to say is that i don't want to get used to them, don't want to get callused, don't want my heart to shut, so that one person's story becames just one more sad story i've read somewhere, while sipping coffee.

peace

playing in the mud, etc.

the top picture is of sena reading to aiyana. i love it when they do that. they get really into it, and it's really sweet, not to mention that it gives me a little break.

the next two pictures are from last week mud-play session. maybe we'll have another one today... (like the boogers hanging out of aiyana's nose?)

my tooth is better!

my tooth is so much better! i took golden seal and rinced with kloss' liniment (which is a mix of ecchinacea, golden seal, cayenne, and vodka). it took about 1.5 weeks, but the infection went down gradually and eventually disappeared. i am also feeling better overall, so i'm very grateful to my herbalist friends who helped me.

asleep, by banana yoshimoto

i love this opening passage from banana yoshimoto's short story, "love songs". maybe it's because it captures so well something i often feel, yet fail to put in words:

"late at night the trees in my garden seemed to shine.
awash in light from the street, the quiet glittering green of the leaves and the deep brown of the trunk seemed startingly vivid.
...each time i looked out on that scenery...i'd be overwhelmed by the unbeleivable purity of those colors, and i'd start feeling as if nothing really mattered, like i wouldn't care at all even if i were to lose everything i had.
this wasn't resignation, or desperation. it was a much more natural form of acceptance, a feeling that arose from a sweep of emotion that was quiet and cool and crystal-clear."

better

things have been much lighter since my last posting. i guess i just really needed to cry, you know how that goes.
yesterday, we had a beutiful, warm spring day. we hung out with sena's friend, giovanna, in the morning, and with my sister and julia. went for a weet little walk around roxi's neighborhood. giovanna's dad picked her up at our house at 2:30, and it was so beautiful out that sena, aiyana and i just ended up spending a few more hours outside. first, we played in the mud. the front of our house is a mud pit at this time, and getting in and out of the house can be frustrating. usually, what happens is that it takes an hour for me to get everyone ready to leave the house, and then when we're finally outside, just about to get in the car, one of the kids trips and falls flat in the mud. so then, i have to go back in the house, get a change of clothes, etc. etc, and in the meantime we're late to whatever we have to do, one or both kids are crying, i'm frustrated, etc.

yesterday, as we hung out near the house, i started getting nervous seeing sena and aiyana near the mud pit. they really wanted to play in there, had their digging sticks ready and their rubber boots on. i felt myself getting tense as i was just about to say "stay out of the mud", and then i just said to myself, why not, why not let them enjoy themselves? so i did, i said, go ahead, and that's all it took, before they were both running back and forth through the thickest of it all, falling in the puddles, stomping and splashing everythere. it was so much fun to let it take whatever shape it would, to not try to control it. i wish i could let it go like this more often, but unfortunately they do need a lot of washing and cleaning afetrwards, not bc i care what they look like, but bc they don't like to be wet, and this is just not practical sometimes.

so anyway, after all that fun in the mud, i washed them both (outside, bucket style), changed them, and we headed to the general store for some soup. we sat outside on a bench, in the sun, and it was so much fun hanging out and relaxing (yes, relaxing, i guess the mud play wore them out..). just the three of us. i felt really good doing that.

sena's been coming up with these really sweet things lately. a while ago, for example, she asked if we were going to die, and i said that everyone will die at some point. then she got really serious, and almost scared, and she said, "but i don't want you and dada to die". then she told us that we had to eat a lot and get lots of energy, so that we would not die. i told her that most likely it will be quite some time before we die, and that we'll get to spend lots of time together before that happened. but she still insisted that we could not die.
that was a month ago or so. then, this morning, she told me that she knew that ed and i would die at some time. but she wasn't sad sying this. that's bc, she said, we would all die together. we'd all snuggle up together, and be really close, and die that way. it was just so sweet, it really touched me.

every day, there are so many precious moments... i want so much to be open, to be receptive to them. i want to let any heaviness i may be experiencing be there, acknowledge it - but i don't want to let it control me and rob me of these unique moments. they happen so quietly, so unexpectedly, that unless i'm open, i miss them completely. they are so small, and yet when i'm receptive, they fill me with joy, and lighten whatever is weighing me down.

peace

needing to write

today i really need to write. my dreams have been very intense again lately. i don't know why i'm experiencing this. i feel like it's a test to see if i can keep level. or a test of what is real. because my dreams certainly feel more real than the real thing, and it makes me wonder.

when i wake up from an especially powerful dream, i feel like i used to when walking out of a really good movie: totally disoriented, so absorbed in the world that the movie created. i remember being in montreal, and coming out of a movie theater feeling so raw as i tried to walk down the street; everything seemed so senseless. all i wanted to do was go home or somewhere safe and process all the feelings / emotions that the movie had brought out. often, i'd just want to cry and cry till everything was washed away. movies like "the big blue", or "37.2 le matin", or "the english patient", and many others, made me feel this way.

..................

just as i was writing the above, some chaos happened at our house, and i just lost my center and started to cry, and left the house, and here i am now, sitting outside at the general store, writing and trying to get some sanity back:

about a week and a half ago, i had a tooth pulled out. it had broken, and part of it fell out (this happened over 2 years ago), but i never did anything about it because i was either pregnant or nursing and did not feel like taking any medication or having x-rays. plus, the tooth wasn't really bothering me. anyway, finally i decided to go to the dentist, and i got it pulled out,and they told me that it was infected under the gum. they said that i should start feeling better overall soon, since my body had been fighting the infection all this time, and maybe that's why i've been feeling so tired. so i was really excited hearing this, cuz i could certainly use some extra energy, and i can do without this feeling of cronic sleep deprivation...

unfortunately, my tooth is not better yet, it's still infected, but i'm working with herbs and stuff to clear it up. i could take antibiotics, but want to use that as a last resort since aiyana's still nursing, and she's actually been nursing a lot lately, and i don't want any drugs getting into her system.

so between my tooth being infected, and not getting any good sleep in weeks due to aiyana's teething (all these tooth problems!), plus not having much of a break from mothering in a long time, i'm left feeling pretty depleted and edgy. today, it took a toll on me, and when both sena and aiyana decided that they were not going nap, well, i came close to snapping. it helped that ed was there, in the sense that at least i felt i had some back-up and felt free to cry. (ed took a sick day from work today bc he has a cold, and he spent the morning at school working on his journalism class, and then he came home for lunch, which is when i saw him). i just felt so frustrated that the kids weren't sleeping, esp. after i had been driving around in circles trying to get them to do so. i really felt like today, i could not do without a break. i needed the mental space, some time to myself, and when it appeared that i wasn't going to get it, i just lost it.

so i just sat there in our house, and cried and held my head in my hands. i really wanted to yell at someone, or throw something, but i restrained myself. i needed to let out all these emotions. i felt so frustrated for not having enough support. you know, the typical thing, how the mother always puts herself last, etc. well, for me that is true. but it's not sustainable. somehow i have to get things working so that i can have a break too once in a while. the scary thing is that when i fall apart, our whole family falls apart. the kids get upset, and maybe even scared, and everyone just feels lost. today, when i told ed that i needed to leave for an hour, sena started to cry and told me not to go. so i had to explain things to her, even though i was in no mood for explanation. but i told her that i really need to do this, because if i don't something bad will happen to me. she asked what would happen, if i would die, and i said that i don't know what will happen, but i probably would not die. she was happy with this explanation and let me go.

this has been an issue for some time (my lack of time to myself), and ed and i have been trying to come up with something workable. i think if we could start with a couple of hours per week, it would make me feel a lot better. but i need it to be a set time, something i can count on and look fwd to, as opposed to just a random period of time that i may or may not get. so hopefuly we'll try this and see how it works.

i think i'm feeling better now, just for having written... i don't know what's up with my writing. why it seems so important. who am i writing for, and why? i think what i always strive for is connection, and intimacy. writing makes these things feel more tangible, more within reach. although, ultimately, i know that the gulf between us, humans, is always there, no matter what we do. we are always alone, and even the closest bonds of family, lovers, or friends, cannot bridge our fundamental separation. i've had moments in my life when i really felt like the other person and i melted together. those are amongst the most precious things in my life - yet, i can't hold on to them, because it's just not possible, and ultimately i have to admit to myself, and to accept the fact that i am alone just like we all are. only death will end this separation, but i'm not ready for that yet. i'm ok with this loneliness, i can even enjoy it in many ways. it does not stop me from always trying to connect, always reaching out.

today, i had a really good moment, when i realized that all these things inside of me can coexist: the pain, the beauty, the disappointments, the loneliness, the hope, the seriousness, the light-heartedness, everything. it came to me really clearly that i am not defined by any of my roles: i am not the mother, not the daughter, not the lover, not the sister, not the friend. i am not the anorexic, not the nerd, not the air-head, not the know-it-all. i am not the one who's been hurt, nor the one that caused the hurt. these things trap me every once in a while, holding me with their rigid definitions, but always, i have glimpses of something else, which is none and all of them, and so much more. something so freeing and unknown, that i can't help but feel that everything is unbearably beautiful just how it is.

time to head back home now...

peace

sputnik sweetheart

a novel by haruki murakami, which i recently read - very nice, drew me right in. after years of not having read any fiction books, this was a nice one to start with. i especially enjoyed the author's insights on love, longing, and writing. reminded me that there are so many kinds of love, so many ways in which people get attached to each other. and fortunately, despite our attempts, i doubt we'll ever be able to capture all of love's expressions into neat little categories.

i choose to fail: stepping out of the system

last night i had a dream that woke me up and stayed with me since. i don't know what time it was when i awoke, but for the rest of the night, this sentence kept playing over and over in my head: "i choose to fail". as i lay in bed, and its significance became clear to me, things started to crystallize, come together in a way they've never done before. like a lake that's just on the verge of freezing, one minute the water still liquid, and then suddenly, one tiny disturbance, and the whole thing is covered with a sheet of ice. of course, now that i'm awake and i try to convey my understanding in a logical manner, it no longer seems so easy. there are things i forget. and others just don't lend themselves to being conveyed in a logical, linear fashion. but i'll try anyway.

in my dream, i found myself in romania. i was in school, taking a math test with the rest of my class. the teacher giving us the test was the gym teacher, the one that beat up my friend's brother.
i was working on the first 2 problems of the test for some time, when i noticed that i wasn't supposed to do both of them, but only choose one. however, this was not clearly indicated on the test, and anyone could have easily missed it, just like i did. i knew at this point, that there was no way i could finish the rest of the test, after having spent so much time on the first 2 problems.

so, in a panic, i went to my teacher, explained the situation, and asked him for some extra time, or some kind of a compromise. yet he was not sympathetic to my case, and more than that, i felt that in his tone, he was actually mocking me, and being condescending. i went back to my seat feeling enraged. i thought that it wasn't fair for him not to even consider my case, and i was upset that the test was so poorly written to begin with.

i considered using what little time was left to do as much as possible, knowing that no matter how hard i tried, i would end up with a crappy grade anyway. then, before i knew it, i stood up in the middle of class, and shouted at the teacher: "i choose to fail". then i left.

i knew that a failing grade would totally stand out in my report card and would raise questions among the other teachers who knew me. i felt relieved once i had made my decision, but more than that, i felt like something vast was opening before me. something unknown and unexpected, which felt right.

when i woke up, it was clear that what i chose to step out of, when i said "i choose to fail" was not only that particular math class, but the whole institution of organized education, and a lot more than that. pink floyd's "hey teachers, leave the kids alone" came to me, and for the first time, i knew what it meant. michel foucault's writing on institutions, power and control also came to mind and made a lot more sense than when i read him, a few years ago.

what became clear to me is that so many things that we're taught to strive for are like bait trapping us in a system set up to control us. good grades when we are in school, and later money, prestige, status, all that - just distractions to take us away from the truth, reality, whatever you want to call it. a whole system set up by power structures whose interests they serve.

it occured to me that what i've been doing over the last few years of my life is stepping out of this system. "failing", by its standards. some people close to me are alarmed by this failure, and how it reflects in my life: lack of interest in status and social position, in things like a nice house, and other material goods; giving up my job; etc. well-intentioned, they are afraid of what may happen to me once i'm no longer playing the game. this, i cannot tell. i may live simply and happily ever after. or, i may not. all i know is that it feels good, it feels real, it feels like i can breathe. it feels like stepping away from a disrespectful, mocking "teacher", who does not care about me at all.

peace

gift

a few days ago, sena asked me what i want her to get me when she gets bigger. i was a little taken by surprise, since we don't often talk about getting each other stuff, but i figured she must've heard it somewhere and that's why she's asking. i told her that she could get me anything she wanted, anything she thought i would like. i told her that anything she got me would be special to me. then she thought for a while, and told me that she was going to get me: socks (i love good socks, this is one thing i don't like to compromise on); something i could hang on the wall to look at and feel good about; and a sharp knife for cutting veges.

this incident reminded me of something from my past: when i was about 15 years old, my mom was going through a hard time. we had just come to canada, and were experiencing quite a bit of culture shock. on top of that, my mom started to realize that working in her profession, as a medical doctor, was going to be very difficult in this new country. at best, it would take years before she'd be able to practice again. in the meantime, she'd have to go back to medical school with people a lot younger than she was at the time, she'd have to take lots of exams - in short it would not be easy. she was not prepared for this, and with all the other changes we were experiencing at the time, she became stressed and overwhelmed.

i was going through my own stuff, and so was my sister and dad. but to me, my mom's suffering was the most obvious. i really wanted to make her happy, but i didn't know how. i felt like i had no control over the circumstances that made her unhappy. one thing i thought about was that if we had more money, things would be so much easier for all of us. so i promissed myself that when i'd get older and earn my own money, i'd save it and get my mom a really speial present. something to make her really happy and show her how i feel. i thought about what this could be, and came up with a fur coat. a fur coat is expensive, so it would be very special, and my mom would love it. in romania, fur coats were very much in style. they were hard to get, and as such became a symbol of social status for those who had them. it was with this mindset that i decided on my special present.

years passed. we all changed a lot. my mom found that her trials were even harder than she'd imagined. they took a toll on her well-being.
my sister and i became acculturated, at ease in our new environment. we did well in school and found well-paying jobs quite easily. not long after starting my job as an engineer, i found myself in the position to buy my mom her special gift. i had not forgotten my idea from years ago. i still wanted to make her happy. still thought she'd appreciate something nice from me. yet, by now, so many things had changed.

for one, a fur coat now seemed like a ridiculos gift idea. nobody i knew or thought of as cool wore fur coats. also, the issue of animal cruelty, which i had not even thought about before, was making the whole thing unfeasible. but, more importantly, i realized that no gift i could buy my mother would make her happy. time and experience had taught me that things are just not that simple. sure, my mom would appreciate a gift from me, the thoughtfulness and kindness behind it. but her life would not change because of it. she'd still have to deal with depression, disappointment, and the general murkiness of life; she'd have to somehow tread her own path through it. the best thing i could do as she's going through her stuff is to be there with her openly, honestly and lovingly. this, of course, is also the hardest, given all the history, all the inhibitions, all the conditioning we now carry around each other from over the years.

when sena told me how much she wanetd to give me a gift when she'd get older, i knew exactly what she meant. i knew the inocence and the simplicity behind her desire. mostly, i knew the openness and generosity of her beautiful heart.
i am so grateful now to be able to experience things from my past, things i would have otherwise forgotten about, through my children. in a way, i now get to experience them from the other side, and that brings a kind of completion that feels just right.

totaly out of context

some wild roses, 3 yrs ago

ideal day

this morning, i stood by the sink scrubbing a potato. i've been making homefries and eggs every morning for the past month or so, per sena's request (although aiyana and i are really into it now too). i was still sleepy, and my mind started to wonder unfocused.

i thought, (no, actually i felt), how nice it would be to wake up whenever i'm ready to, and then have a shower. just that. what a treat! then, i imagined following with a really good breakfast. soon, i realized that i was in the process of visualizing my "ideal" day.

the first part of the visualization, above, was very clear. the rest of it was a little more unfocused, in the sense that it involved feelings more than the actual circumstances that would bring about those feelings. in any case, for the rest of my day, i imagined being out in nature (maybe gardening, hiking, something like that); getting together with friends and having fun; spending some time writing, painting, cooking, daydreaming, or doing something creative; and having enough family time to talk and connect with each other.

i was very happy to realize that my "ideal" day is actually very realistic, and i can see it coming along not too long from now. the only thing is that there's no activity in it directed twds making money, and hopefuly that won't be a problem....

and of course, my ideal day is probably going to look very different if you catch me on a different day, different season, different mindset, etc. not to mention that i can imagine other "ideal" days that would look nothing like what i've described here... but these don't fit within the current context of my life, so i figured i'd better not spend too much energy on them now.

peace

more winter pics

i can't get enough of this. today, we're having another gorgeous day, like the one i had when i took these pics.

peace

sledding

went sledding today. it was so much fun! the weather was beautiful - we had about 3in of snow last night, so there was a nice cover, yet it was warm enough to be comfortable w/o a jacket. ed was home from work, so the 4 of us went to uconn, on one of the big hills there. we had 2 tobogans, one of which didn't work very well. but the other one was great, and the four of us ended up on it, and we were going so fast down the hill, snow spraying into our faces.by the time we reached the bottom, we were all laughing. going uphill was less fun, at least for me and ed, since we had to carry both kids and the tobogan. but we got a few really good runs in before everyone was tired and we went home.

i am so glad i get to experience this again! it's been a long time since i had fun in the snow, but being with the kids got me into it again.

last friday i was not feeling so great, a little tired and vulnerable, so i felt like i needed some energy and support. i put on my "new" sweather, the one sue gave me the previous days. she wore it for years, and it shows. it has two big holes, and lots of love. i put it on bc i thought that having sue's energy close to me would feel nice. and it does. i've worn it every day since then. i may have to wash it, it's got some jam stains on it from aiyana's hands...

i really love clothes with a history, like this sweather. clothes that have been worn and loved and have character. and if i know the person who's had it before me, and connect with their energy, that's even so much better...

by the trail

squatting down by the old trail,

low to the ground.

i've walked this trail so many times,

now covered with snow

bright sun reflecting off, blinding me.

i close my eyes.

today, i am not walking.

i feel weary, so instead

i squat down low,

feet firmly planted in soft snow

so i can feel closer to her, Earthmother.

i seek relief and soothing.

been inside for too long,

confined by walls and by too many thoughts.

close to the ground,

i rest my head into my hands,

i close my eyes,

and feel.

i feel the wind, a slightest breeze

running its fingers through my hair,

sending it, gently, over my face.

suddenly, the thought comes to me

that your breath is on the wind,

and it makes me smile

knowing that you Love me.

after a while, i start hearing faint noises.

footsteps? i turn my head,

but nobody is there.

it's only branches creaking in the wind

the Trees speaking to me.

i've been missing this so much....

i hear birds and squirrels play -

they know that spring is coming,

today, a perfect messenger for it.

my body feels less weary,

my emotions still untamed

yet somehow less instense, less powerful.

this is the end of winter,

time when the snow and ice melt,

when rivers swell,

carrying away debris, unnecessary things,

preparing ground for new growth.

it is, as well, the winter of my soul,

and i am waiting for a swell of rushing water

to take away these images, these feelings and sensations

that clutter me, allow me no peace.

i love them and i hate them,

i want them and i don't.

they're who i am, so in the end

i'll have to find a way for them to coexist

with tiny shoots of new growth

that stir inside of me.

how? i can't tell you yet.

that's why i'm here,

by myself,

in the snow,

by the old trail.

winter at our doorstep (literaly)

Into the Fire - The alchemy of personal writing

"Is it possible to write about ourselves in a way that touches others and reminds them of our fundamental conectedness? The answer is yes, if we're willing to leap - with all our passion and fear and longing - into the fire. And that fire is not just a metaphor. It's as real as our own mysterious existence; as real as a painful moment that has broken, and maybe opened, our hearts.

As we grapple with the elusive meaning of a difficult experience, without embarassement and without embellishment, we may discover that our writing begins to change, deepen, and move beyond the merely personal. To wite this way is hard work. Few sentences come out right the first time, or the second, or the third. But if we're committed to seeing the process through, we discover that our most private moments can become more than what we thought they were: a shining source of light for others as well as ourselves."

(The Sun, feb 2007 issue)

more dreams, etc.

mon feb 19th

my nights, over the past week, have been very busy, unsettling, and unrelenting. my head, racing with thoughts, dreams, and half-dreams. despite being tired, i've been waking up every night, at least once, and had a hard time calming down the rush of emotion, slowing down enough to fall back asleep. emotions, mostly from the past, that felt overwhelmingly real. i felt swept away, powerless, only to be thrown out of it exhausted at the end. here's one dream, that exemplifies what i'm trying to describe:

i'm looking for an old, close friend. i feel that i absolutely must find him, see him, talk to him. after much searching, i finally find myself standing in front of my old elementary school in romania. i open the door and step inside, looking for him. as soon as i'm inside, i get sucked into the time when i was a child attending that school. i see the doors and the hallways, and a few kids walking around. my heart sinks as i realize that this is not the place to find my friend. i should be looking for him is at mcgill, in canada. but here i am instead - stuck in this time and place with all these emotions from my childhood flooding in, and with the desolation of not having found him, of being so far off.

I got up from this dream sad and exhausted. thought about it a lot over the next day: how i felt so lonely and uncomfortable being in my old school; how my early life in romania was shaped by so many mis-guided adults, my "teachers". they believed in disciplining us through fear, intimidation, and shame. this is how it was, and everyone accepted it. it never even occured to me to question it until i had my own children .

those were the times when politically, economically, socially and personally, people had so little control over their lives, that it must've felt like some kind of release for our teachers to finally get the feeling that they can control something, or somebody: us, the kids in their classes.

i feel so much sadness realizing this. sadness for everybody involved. i feel sad for the adults, because now i see what kind of position they were in, given the greater context of their lives. i feel sad for us, the kids, who didn't understand what was going on. i feel sad for how we learned to be mean to each other, to put each other down in order to feel good about ourselves.

i can recall several incidents when i was deliberately mean to others, because i thought this was the way to address my problems, and because it made me feel better about myself. one time, i tripped a boy on roller skates just to see what would happen. when he got hurt a lot more that i thought he would, i knew i had done something really bad, but the main emotion i felt at the time was fear. i knew that his parents would be after me in no time, and i was more concerned with my own skin than his. yet this incident has stayed with me all these years, and i have gone through lots of emotions with it. now i tell sena the story at night, how i tripped him and how i still feel guilty about it. the fear is long gone, but the guilt and the feeling of "what was i thinking?" haven't.

another incident i recall which shows me just how used we were to "small" acts of violence in our everyday lives, happened at school when i was maybe 10-years-old. we had a teacher of Russian, who rarely came to class. she was a prominent member of the (communist) party, so she held quite a bit of power in our school, and nobody really questioned her as far as we knew. when she did come to class, she yelled at us a lot, and often hit us with a stick when we did not know our stuff really well. one time, she was absent as usual. our class was getting very noisy. we were playing soccer, making a racket and knocking things off the walls. other teachers must've complained, cuz/ our russian teacher showed up in a fury, tried to get things under control. when she couldn't, she stormed off yelling that she's going to get the gym teacher. a few minutes later, the gym teacher walked in and everyone was quiet (scared of him). everyone took their seats, but the room was a mess. somehow, the gym teacher picked out this one boy, a known "troublemaker". he hadn't been more or less at fault than any of us on this particular occasion, but he was an easy target. the troublemaker had a sister, who was also in our class. the rest of us were barely breathing, hoping not to attract attention, not to be picked on, as the gym teacher started beating "the troublemaker". this was not unusual, at least not up to the point where the little boy fell on the floor, and the gym teacher, enraged, started kicking him. i don't remember all the details, but 2 things stand up in my mind: the boy's nose bleeding badly, blood smeared all over the floor; and his sister, my friend, crying quietly in her seat, trying not to make any noise, as she watched him being beaten.

eventually, the gym teacher left, and everyone carried on with their day. this was nothing unusual, maybe the blood was a little much, but not enough to make anyone really question things. when i was in romania, a few years ago, i met a friend who knew the "troublemaker" and his sister. she told me that the troublemaker was still just that. i guess all that beating wasn't very effective. he certainly had a lot of it. so i can't help but wonder if our teachers were really beating and insulting us "for our own good" as they professed, or was it really because they were unhappy people, feeling the need of power and control, in at least one area of their lives.

i also feel so sad realizing the truth of the very old saying that pain and suffering go around in a vicious cycle, often being carried forward by those who suffered from them the most.

peace (and peaceful dreams)

last week - a peaceful moment

peace

being crazy

i'm having a very crazy week so far. despite the fact that my mom is here and helping out a lot with the house and kids, things are much more difficult than they have been lately. aiyana is being very sensitive and crying a lot (4 teeth coming in at the same time can do that), and sena's picking up on the vibes as well and can be very demanding at times. mostly though, she's been an angel, very understanding and reasonable for a 3-year-old.

my patience is definitely being tested this week, and i've discovered just how angry and aggressive i can get when things really get to me, and i'm trying hard to control myself and everything else going on around me, and at the same time i'm trying to relax and let things be. how crazy is that?

one thing i've discovered is that when things get really tough, when they get beyond a certain point, it's almost like there's a certain release. i guess it's because i figure things can't really get much worse, and everything i was trying to avoid has already happened, so there's nothing left to worry about, hence the release. which makes me realize how all this tension and frustration is mostly in my mind, or my attitude, or whatever you want to call it. because if i were more relaxed about things they would probably go smoother... so this is something i'm working on without trying too hard. you know how that goes, you've got to try w/o trying. you got to let go and then it happens. of course this makes no sense, but who said it's got to?
life is not about making sense, i've discovered, it's more about being graceful, and being with it and a bunch of other things i've yet to discover (or re-discover).

well, so now that i actually have a few minutes to sit and write this, i'm feeling pretty nice, light and happy - coffee has a lot to do w this, but so does Brian Andreas's writing, some of which i'd like to share here. enjoy....

Real Reason:
There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good.

Kindred Spirits:
You're the strangest person I ever met, she said & I said you too & we decided we'd know each other a long time.

No Words:
I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.

Illusion of Control:
If you hold on to the handle, she said, it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you.

my sister and Ricardo got me this one for my bday. i love it because it speaks to me so much:

Center of Wheels
I spent a long time trying to find my center until I looked closely one
night & found it had wheels & moved easily in the slightest
breeze, so now I spend less time sitting and more time sailing.

you can find more here if you're interested:

http://www.storypeople.com/storypeople/Home.do?inMenu=true

Peace

feeling blue

i've been feeling very...vulnerable, i guess that's the best way to put it, over the last few days. i'd like to write about it but don't have much time right now.

i just feel like i'm on the edge of something, of losing something, or maybe i already lost it...
hope to get a chance to write about it soon.

peace

pics from last week

the first picture, taken by my sister last week, is of Sena, her good friend Giovanna, and my sister's baby Julia. i love how their joy and beauty comes through...

the second one shows my mom and Aiyana bonding over some food. it was taken this weekend, at a little family get-together we had for my bday.

thanks for the pics, roxi and ricardo....

hanging out at the house

here are two examples of how we've been spending time this winter: mostly in the house (too cold out recently), reading and getting messy with...food, paint, etc.
oh yeah, and spinning on the "office chair" is a big favorite too (despite numerous falls)....

the old blue heron

the old blue heron that i used to see at eagleville dam, is no longer there. he hasn't been there for months, yet i still look for him each time i go by the dam, which is at least twice a week. i don't know why, but i miss him.

he was so silent and motionless amidst the running water, the crazyness of cars going by, people fishing, etc. seeing him standing there like that would instantly bring me peace as well. transport me somewhere else - out of my head and into the moment. because of him, i never failed to notice how beautiful the river and the surrounding trees were through all kinds of weather.

i don't know how many people noticed the heron, hidden as he was - sometimes he stood right by the dam, but other times he'd stand more downstream, on the side of the river, almost in the woods.

i try to still pay attention to the trees and the water, as if he were still there, but it's not the same. i try to notice how everything's changing with the seasons, with time going by: the river swells and then subsides again; the trees, all bare, are covered with snow and ice; on different days, they reflect different hues of light - sometimes gray, sometimes orange or pink.

i'll keep looking for him, hoping he'll come back. maybe herons migrate, i don't know, i should look it up; in any case i hope to see him again in the spring maybe, and then i know that there will be a swell of joy in my heart. joy and recognition.

peace

bearing witness

i feel that there's a lot of stuff going on among the people i'm close with: depression, sick parents and children, separation, hopelessness, etc. makes me realize again how we all go through these things at different times; i remember times when i was down, hopeless, scared, alone, and i am grateful for these experiences because they allow me to identify and empathize with others. i am also grateful that people feel open enough with me to share their hopes, disappointments and pain.

yet, i still find myself uncomfortable with pain, mine and others'. i've become more aware of how hard it is to be in the presence of raw emotion and just sit with it, listen and not try to change it, not try to fix it, or offer solutions or make light of it, or anything like that. i recently read a passage that speaks to this in a simple, eloquent way:

"when we honestly ask ourselves which people in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. the friend who can be silent with us in a moment of dispair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing, and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." (Henry Nouwen, as published in the feb 2007 edition of The Sun)

the other thing that comes to mind in this context is Pema Chodron's suggestion, which my friend Jennifer recently reminded me about. it's a special meditation, in which you breathe in pain, discomfort, heaviness, and breathe out light, ease, and well-being.
it's suggested that the meditation be done at first by imagining someone who's really close to you experiencing some kind of suffering, because that's the easiest way for most people to feel compassion and open their hearts to someone else. eventually, with LOTS of practice (i'm not speaking from experience here, only repeating what i read), you my come to feel compassion towards anyone's suffering...

knowing this helps me sometimes, esp. after having been with someone who's in a tough situation and feeling there's not much i can do for them, other than simply being there to bear witness to their circumstances.

peace

the audition

(a little story from a long time ago...)

i don't remember who drove us there. probably my parents. they dropped us off, bunica (my grandmother) and i, and then they left.

i don't remember much about the setting, or the entire thing. just a few sharp, disjointed details:

the building was gray and stern. bunica and i walked inside. we found ourselves staring down a long hallway, poorly lit, with many doors on either side. all the doors were closed. we walked for what seemed like a long time, our steps resounding on the bare floor. i was very nervous, almost scared. i followed bunica in silence. she walked sure of herself, with purpose.

eventually, i saw a group of people standing in line in front of a door down the hall. they were mostly kids, and a few grown-ups. i thought that this must be where the audience was taking place.

we got to the door and took our place in line. we didn't talk to anyone, or to each other. i remember feeling unease and dread as the line inched forward and we approached the door. the door stayed closed except for when someone went in or out.

i didn't know who or what was behind the door. but i knew was that when my turn came, i was supposed to walk in and sing. i hadn't spoken to anyone about what i'd sing. i hadn't practiced any particular piece. i remember panicking as i approached the door and still had not picked a song.

my turn finally came. the door opened and i went in alone.

i found myself standing in front of a long table, on one side of which several adults were seated. they looked at me and i could tell right away that they were bored with the whole thing, impatient to get it over with, and annoyed at having to listen to one more awful sounding, nervous kid.

they asked my name and a few other necessary details. then, one of them told me to sing.

i didn't feel like i could put them out by taking the time to prepare my voice, clear my throat, or anything like that. nervously, i started singing the song i had picked at the last minute. i knew right away that i sounded awful. i thought i could do much better. but there was only one chance and i had just missed it.

as abruptly as they said sing, they told me to stop. my audience was over. i turned around and walked out. feeling like a failure, but also relieved.

bunica and i walked back down the hallway, away from the crowd that was still gathered at the door, and into the street.

i knew that my audition was a failure. i'd never be selected from among the other children. i felt bad for letting bunica down, and i felt humiliated by the experience.

this had been another of bunica's attempts to turn us into "somebody". she never gave up, this being a central trait of her fiercely independent character. this time, she said "you have a good voice, you should sing", probably after hearing me sing some song to myself or my parents at home. her talk wasn't idle - she followed up by signing me up for a singing audition she'd heard about from who knows where.

i never knew about her arrangements. she worked behind the scenes, always figuring out new ways to turn us into "somebody". she sought, most of all, social recognition for herself and her family. she liked to be "above" the masses, to be looked up to, envied.

i was about 10 years-old at that time. bunica and i didn't talk about this incident since then. or about the one with the violin; nor the one with the fish; etc. she was, and still is, a woman of action.

now in her 90's, she looks like a frail old woman, but her willpower is as strong as ever, and she still clings to her independence more than anything.

somwehere in my childhood, i started thinking that i didn't like her. she was too tough to love. but as i moved into adulthood (not to mention physically moved away from her), i unexpectedly dicovered a lot of tenderness in my heart for her. tenderness and love.

maybe it has to do with knowing her better, knowing where she came from. understanding her circumstances. maybe it has to do with realizing that there have been plenty of times when i was insensitive to people around me, and i hurt them. maybe it has to do with her current situation - a frail old woman living alone in a country far away from family and friends.

now, when i call her on the phone, she usually asks me how much money i make and how many degrees i have. she tells everyone that i have a doctorate even though i don't. sometimes, to make her feel better and to spare her the embarassment of a lie, i tell her that i'm working on one.

i feel that she needs to know that we, her direct family, have made something "worthy" of ourselves. that we are "better that the rest". i'm afraid that if i were to share my true feelings with her, if i were to tell her that i am happy being an ordinary person, a nobody, spending the days with my kids, watching the seasons change, with no particular ambitions and nothing extraordinary to my name, well, i'm afraid this may be too much for her. she may be devastated - or, most likely, she may refuse to believe me, refuse to hear me, letting my words slip away from her consciousness.

however, i'm sure that she'd be thrilled to hear that i like to write (she being a writer with several books published to her name). although that is a little twisted too. she wouldn't want to know, for example, that when i write it doesn't matter where my writing goes. that there's no special ambition behind it, just the desire to share with others - share myself, just for the fun of doing it, and the release.

bunica is nearing the end of her life. sometimes i think that soon, she's bound to realize that this ambition, this "being somebody" and "getting somewhere" mean nothing really. maybe, one morning she'll wake up and hear a lonely bird sing its special / ordinary song right outside her window, and know that this is enough.

but this is my fantasy, my vision of her. in reality, bunica's spirit is embodied in a strong woman, focused on action and achievement.

Iris Murdoch wrote that "love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real". i have had this realization about my grandmother, and in spite of all the things i wanted her to be, i am sure now that i love her exactly for what she is.

------------

since writing this piece a few months ago, bunica got very ill. she had major surgery around Christmas, which nobody thought she would survive. but she did (she always told us she wanted to live to be 100) and recovered enough to be moved to an elderly-people's-home. being there was very difficult for her at first, as it is for most people. when finally she resigned herself to the idea that she'll have to stay a while, she insisted that somebody go to her apartment and bring her something special: a plant she had nurtured and become friends with.

peace

lunch

so i'm sitting down at the co-op cafe with some friends yesterday, while our kids are playing. we're talking and laughing, then aiyana wants to nurse. so i start nursing her, and this guy i met a little while ago, who's really nice and honest, says to me: i wish i could have that for lunch. and then he turns and says to this other guy, who's his helper (the first guy has a handicap): don't you?

so i thought that it was really funny, and i laughed, and so did most of the other people who heard the comments. but the helper was not pleased, and he left, and soon the first guy left too. after a few minutes, he came back and appologized for the comments, and i said it was ok, i knew they weren't badly intentioned, he was just speaking his mind, and besides, how many other men think that, or other things that may even be hurtful, but they pretend to be all about something else. at least he was honest.

then my friend sue jumped in and said how breastfeeding is such a big deal in this culture, and many people aren't comfortable with it because they sexualize the whole thing, when in fact what can be more natural than feeding your baby when she cries? some other cultures may be uptight about different things, but not this one.

anyway, it was just a funny little thing that happened, but i think it can tell you quite a bit about the way things are.

peace