Tangled

It's raining today, but the cows are finally out on pasture, and the grass is getting greener and more lush every day, and they are so happy! All this rain, although depressing to many people, is good for the earth, and we'll be grateful for it the rest of the season.

Today I am harvesting, but mostly in the greenhouse, and I am glad for that. Before I go out though, I have a poem and a painting by another painter I recently discovered, Viktor Vasnetsov.

 

 

I remember the stories they told

when I was a child,

about swimming in lakes

with murky waters;

How if you got tangled

in the grasses and weeds

undulating in the depths,

you might get pulled under

and drown.

I don't know about lakes,

but I can tell you that this is a fine warning

about the thoughts in your own head,
and the feelings in your heart.

And yet-

to swim the murky waters,

of your own self, 

you must.

To have to struggle,

to know fear, darkness, loneliness

to learn that you can move through them...

How else could you be whole?
How else could you find love?

You must be tangled,

You must be lost,

You must be shattered

So you may know what's true,

So you may be of use.

Senator Flexer and plans for Nantucket

Last Saturday, CSI Youth Group met with CT State Senator Mae Flexer to talk about banning plastic bags.

Now, Sena is working hard to prepare for her upcoming engagement in Nantucket. She was invited to give a presentation and show the movie Sonic Sea at one, possibly two, schools in Nantucket, on May 15th.
Two NGO's gave money (CSI and Nantucket Marine Mammal Conservation Program) to hire a professional film crew to have the presentation recorded. And there's also talk of the radio station NPR coming to interview Sena.

Sena is really really excited with all this. A few weeks ago, after we watched A Plastic Ocean, Aiyana told me that after the movie, Sena was whispering to herself in bed "I will make a difference, I will make a difference...". And so she is, along with CSI Youth Group.

Ed will most likely take her to Nantucket. They will have free lodging and a tour of the island. If I went, I'd be sure to stop by the dump too. I heard it's crazy, the stuff people throw away on Nantucket, with all those billionaires living there... Hopefully after Sena goes, they'll be buying less and throwing away less....

Here's a line by Bukowski, which describes Sena so well: "There is no lie in her fire"

Peace

a dream and a painting

The dream is mine, the painting is by Shishkin. I recently discovered Shishkin and I love his work.

Remember when I saw you in that dream,

when I was 12 and you were ageless?

Remember the forest,

how you caught up with me,

and we never said a word -

There was no need,

because we knew.

Earth Day

Some pictures from the farm this rainy, beautiful, day.

Arugula and Mustard (below) going to seed in the greenhouse

 Other crops in the background are lettuces, carrots, peas and radishes

Peaches in bloom in the orchard

 The smell of hyacinths in the air

My heart is filled with beauty and sadness, I don't know if I can contain it all...
May we walk upon the earth in peace and gratitude.

Poetry and field work

These days, I read my poetry in the morning, and then I'm good to go for a while with my work out in the field. It's a nice combination.

Here are a few more excerpts from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (Edward Fitzgerald translation)

 

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing. 

.... 

Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain--This Life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. 

...

I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell:
And by and by my Soul return'd to me,
And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell:" 

....

And this I know: whether the one True Light
Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite,
One Flash of It within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright. 

Peace

Aiyana's Public Service Announcement

Aiyana went to the UConn radio station today (WHUS) to record a Public Service Announcement for a free movie showing CSI Youth Group is having on Saturday, May 13th, at the Mansfield Public Library at 5pm. The movie they will be showing is A Plastic Ocean.

Here is Aiyana's PSA.

Beautiful things that make me happy and inspire me

From The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (trans. by Edward Fitzgerald)

“A book of verses underneath the bough

A flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thou

Beside me singing in the wilderness

And wilderness is paradise now.”

A painting by Kirill Vikentevich Lemoch: Congratulations

 

Homeschooling

Sena working on a book report

 Aiyana reading "Warriors don't cry", a book about school segregation in the 50s.

And our new lawn sign. Our town, Mansfield, has been welcoming refugees.

Peace

these moments

there are these moments of panic

when i realize,

just how alone we really are

and my usual tricks of

talking myself out of it

lose all power

and i pray that you...

won't you tell me that i'm wrong?

i need no proof

just to feel you care enough to want to change my mind

just to know that you want to...

 Peace

Easter Eggs

Sena, Aiyana and I had a lot of fun decorating these eggs. I made two, the rest was all them.
The eggs are white chicken eggs from our hens, which Sena and Aiyana pierced at top and bottom, and blew the insides out of. Then we decorated using dyes and wax. It's a painstaking process, but really fun and meditative. It reminds me of calligraphy, which we used to practice as children in Romania. You just get into it, and become focused and relaxed at the same time.

Herodotus

2500 years ago, Herodotus said: "Where wisdom is called for, force is of little use".

Yet here we are, still acting as if dropping a bigger bomb is going to solve our problems.

If I could only "Disarm you with a smile" (Smashing Pumpkins)...

Meeting with US Congressman Joe Courtney

On Tuesday, Sena, Aiyana and the rest of CSI Youth Group had a meeting with with Congressman Joe Courtney, to talk about protecting marine mammals and the ocean from seismic oil / natural gas drilling. Mapping the ocean floor in search of oil or gas is harmful to whales, dolphins, and many other species due to the high levels of noise involved, and the duration of the procedure.

Rep. Courtney was very friendly, answered all the girls' questions and said he'd bring the issue to his staff in Washington DC. He said he was impressed by how well prepared they were, and offered to show them around next time they're in Washington DC.

Today, Sena is meeting with the Town Manager and the Mair of Mansfield to talk about banning plastic bags.

On Saturday, she's going to Gloucester, MA, where she's part of the education team on a whale watching boat. We can barely keep up with her, but she is very happy doing all this. She says she loves being busy working to make a difference...

Sena and Aiyana, and many other kids who come from their heart don't know it, but what they're doing is, in Bukowski's words, "bringing their own light to the darkness". Their light is so strong. I'll do anything to keep it that way.



Peace

Give and give again

I was harvesting this morning for my farm sale (which will be tomorrow 4-7pm) and these little lines came into my head. Good excuse to take a little break and write them down, and stretch my back at the same time.

Bukowski

Good Morning, friends and family! Another beautiful spring day. I hope that you enjoy it, whatever you're doing today, just be present for a little while and feel how sweet a sunny day in spring can be. Do something a little silly or crazy, not for anyone else, just for yourself, to let yourself know that you're still you. I've been letting myself be silly lately, even though I know that some people around me judge me in not a favorable way. But I don't care, it feels good, and I'm not hurting anyone. I've been speaking to animals out loud when other people are around, even though I know most people think it's weird. But the animals like it. They come up to me and let me scratch them. And Sena and Aiyana laugh at me in a kind way, in a "mama you're so silly" way, not mean, so they encourage me to loosen up.

I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I did.

The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Aflame

I am aflame!

I am enraptured,

and I believe.

Tell me anything,

Show me who you are,

And I promise,

I promise that I will!

I WILL see the good in you,

I WILL see behind those eyes,

behind what you say, and do,

behind that suffering...

My heart has been open,

This openness has no bounds.

Stretch out your hand!

Peace

Fish and dogs out of context

After my deliveries on Friday, I stopped by the Thames River in Groton. I like to be near the water whenever possible. It's a funny thing, but when I was about 10-11 years-old, I started referring to myself in the third person as "the fish", in conversation with my parents and sister. I would say to them "the fish thinks this, or the fish doesn't like that, and so on". I don't know why, it was weird to have picked a fish, and it didn't sound flattering or anything in Romanian. My mom and I still laugh about it, and Sena and Aiyana think it's crazy but funny that I would want to be called "the fish".
Well, anyway, at least one thing I know I have in common with a fish is that I am attracted to water... 

And since I'm talking about animals in a funny context, this morning I introduced Aiyana to Jane's Addiction "Been caught stealing". I used to dance to that song at Purple Haze, my favorite club in Montreal, in the 90s. I thought Aiyana would like the intro with the dogs barking, and she did.

Peace

Those who save us

I'm always writing something these days. I am inspired by everything in my life, the books I'm reading, current events, people, etc. I am happy to have this blog to share what I write, even though I'm always anxious and insecure about my writing, worrying that it's silly or too much or whatever. But I keep doing it because things just keep coming and it's mostly fun. And I know that my sister, mom, Sena and Aiyana like it.

CSI Youth Group met with State Representative Gregg Haddad

Sena's youth group met today with State Representative Gregg Haddad to discuss a ban on plastic bags for our town (Mansfield), and possibly at the state level. The girls were very happy with how the meeting went and with Rep. Haddad's support. Here are the two documents they brought to the meeting, summarizing their points and some facts behind the plastic bag ban:
Talking Points and Plastic Bag Ban Fact Sheet.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Rainy day today, the earth getting ready to turn green, and soon I will be out harvesting for my deliveries. But before I do that, it's nice to start off the day with coffee and a reading about one of my favorite books and authors: The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

Here is beautiful article by Maria Popova, and its message so badly needed still, on how we can connect with each other despite being put in difficult positions and labeled "enemy", "prisoner", "refugee", etc. Our shared humanity can transcend these labels and confinements, as illustrated in this true story from the life of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, author of The Little Prince.

And speaking of The Little Prince, one of my favorite books ever, it is now on exhibit at The Morgan Library and Museum in NYC. You can read more about Antoine de Saint-Exupery, the writing of The Little Prince, and see some of his original drawings for the book, here.
 
Peace

Yield

No choice but yield to - 

This primal knowing and connection,
This depth, hidden beneath minutiae and convention.

The fierce beauty of these dreams,  

rare flowers,

stubbornly emerging, again and again.

The pain and longing,

Inside of music, and poetry.

And this love.

Yield to
the blessing and the curse,

Yield to

the blessing inside the curse.

("rare flowers" comes from “Down in a hole” by Alice in Chains, which I listened to today, in remembrance of Layne Stanley)

One day

Burn

You wanted to feel love.

Then why, child, do you complain about the fire?

Don't you know that

to love is to burn that which cannot withstand flame,

and give away the rest?

Yesterday's harvest

I posted this yesterday, for those who follow Shundahai on Facebook, and wanted to re-post here for those who don't. (The weather is so different today, but more sunny days are sure to come).

Welcome spring! I can't get enough of this day! The earth is waking up, and it's so beautiful. I spent all morning and afternoon outside, harvesting and preparing salad greens for delivery to Fiddleheads Food Co-op in New London and Oyster Club restaurant in Mystic. I plan to start having farm sales again soon too, and I'll be sure to post an announcement.

These greens are so delicious right now, sweet from having survived the cold, and spicy from being mature.

Washing the salad greens

Welcome, little friends!

These crocuses, which Sena and Aiyana planted a couple of years ago are such a joy

 

Peace

What I really want is...

A plastic ocean

“You might not care, even if you know,

but you can’t care if you don’t know”

Dr Sylvia Earle

I wanted to share this quote and the movie "A Plastic Ocean" (check out the trailer), which we watched as a family this weekend. We all really liked it, and I highly recommend it. It will inform you and inspire you and empower you.

 

Peace

Pysansky eggs

Sena and Aiyana decorated these eggs at their friend's house last Sunday. They are real chicken eggs, which the girls pierced and blew out the interior of. Then, they painstakingly decorated them in the Ukranian tradition of pysansky eggs, using different dyes and wax (the Romanian tradition is very similar). It took about 4 hours to decorate two eggs each. But both Sena and Aiyana were completely absorbed and loved the whole process. They'll be making more soon.

The nest we put the eggs in, is a real bird's nest we found fallen on the ground a few years ago. Sena made the egg on the left and Aiyana the one on the right.

Peace

Deer remains

Aiyana and her friend found this deer at the back edge of our property. They came to get me, and we went back there with a field guide. We identified coyote tracks, lots of them, leading in all directions. But I don't think these coyotes were the ones that killed the deer though, because the carcass was much older than the tracks; they were just feasting on the remains. It's very likely that a hunter shot the deer, and the deer was able to get away just enough to find a spot to lie down and die.

This picture is of deer hair and coyote tracks. We often hear coyotes howling at night, and I 'm happy to know that we, humans haven't totally taken over this neighborhood yet. I love that there's still a little bit of wildness around.

Peace

The value of your voice

My own personal and social experience supports this quote below. I too found that, after running myself into certain situations over and over, gradually and at a painfully slow pace, I began to transform. At some point, I began to realized that I am less afraid of speaking truth, be it in social, political or personal matters. Of course I am nowhere near done with this process, but I have experienced it enough to recognize that it's happening, and to trust it a little.
Peace

Giving

I love humans for how we can be irrational in the name of beauty, truth and love.
I am so grateful to all the people who try, and sometimes succeed, to transcend their brokenness and desperation, and give of themselves to create something good and beautiful.

Such people as Boris Pasternak, author of Doctor Zhivago, which I just finished reading and highly recommend (it's the kind of book that made me want to hide in the hay, among the cows, and steal some time to read more); and the authors of this beautiful illustrated book "Cry Heart but Don't Break", reviewed at brainpickings.org; and many other, unknown people who give of themselves in whichever way they can.

Peace

Together, alone

A Fearful Dream

For many years, I've had this recurring dream:
I'm in a room, looking at the window.
Outside is dark; I cannot see anything.
I'm vaguely anxious,
and as I look towards the window,
all of a sudden it becomes clear that someone's there,
on the other side,
about to get in, about to come after me.

Terrified, I run, with the chaser close behind me.
I never turn around,
I never see him.

Last night I woke up from this dream,
heart pounding, mind reeling,
but whereas in the past I tried to put it out of my mind,
forget about it, go back to sleep,
this time, I thought,
I must do something different.

This dream and its fear has tormented me for too long.
I always run away, and that never saves me.
Next time, I will myself to turn around,
and face whoever's coming after me.
I will myself to see them in the light, and ask them:
Who are you?
What do you want?
What is your story?

Already, planning to do this,
has helped me shed the fear, a little bit.
And I am ready for the next encounter.

Maybe this dream is here to teach me something,
and it won't go away until it has.

RIP Vlad

My cousin, Vlad, passed away last week in Paris. He was my age. May he rest in peace and may his family find peace.

As for the rest of us who still have today: Enjoy this beautiful first day of spring! May we find what we need and walk in peace with ourselves and others; may we know and be known, and may we feel love.

Peace

Pics of the high tunnel

Nicu called me this morning, from Romania. We talked about the weather, and he told me about what he's been planting, his early potatoes, and peas, and how he cleaned up the grape vine at his neighbor's house. He told me about the latest drink he fermented and how well it came out, and how he can't wait to go forage for berries in the forest again and make more of it. I love listening to him. He's like a voice from another time. When he talks to me, the stories he tells, I feel his love and closeness to the land. His conversations always bring something up in me, a sort of wistfulness mixed with hope for good, simple things. It's not necessarily the words he says, but how he says them. I always tell myself that when he goes, the world will lose an invaluable resource. He has so many skills that we no longer have, and that you can't really learn anywhere. Skills from a lifetime spent close to the land and the forest.

I also shared a bit about what I've been planting, my greens, and peas and carrots and radishes. I always feel like such an amateur compared to him. But he never talks down to me.

Peace

Someone called me by my name

I listen to the news, I take in as much as I can, and decide what I can do, how I can make a difference. But after some time, keeping informed and active can become overwhelming, and I've experienced this with the proposed health care changes, and the attacks on the EPA, and other things happening right now under Trump.

So I always find myself needing to balance this kind of information and activity with something of a different nature, something that nurtures me. Something like this poem by Yeats.
I love how in it, he expresses the relentless human drive to seek and hope, like having a "fire in the head", and the essential yearning of the human heart of being seen and recognized, of being "called me by one's name".

The song of the wondering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lads and hilly lands.
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Happy Birthday Roxi!

This week was my sister's birthday. A very happy day!

My sister is the most selfless, giving person I know. Really.
I always worry that she gives so much, and doesn't have enough left for herself, but it turns out that giving is what actually fills her own cup. She gives to her family, by cooking, cleaning and spending time caring for them in all the ways a mother would want to care. She gives to the community by listening to people, and bringing them food when they're down, or doing what she can to help.
And she gives me so much.

She's been a source of continuity throughout my life. She's known me through all the changes, the moves from Romania to Canada and then to the US. She's seen me though all my phases and moods: the childhood we shared, the hard teenage years when we came to Canada, the anorexia/bulimia phase, the college partying phase, the Doc Marten / grunge phase, the Pratt&Whitney phase, the world traveler phase, the farmer phase, the mothering phase, and others I forgot.

I am most grateful to her for knowing me, really knowing me, and accepting me. We are similar in many ways, but also different in many. For example, I am much more irresponsible and unreliable than she is. But the thing that feels the best is that despite seeing my faults and the parts of myself that I am most ashamed about, she does not make feel cast out. On the contrary, she makes me feel loved, accepted and appreciated for who I am. That, to me, is the greatest gift one person can give another, and I am so lucky to have her.

I have a picture of us from 1978; I was 6 and she was 3. We were still in Romania at that time, and the picture is taken at Christmas, at my aunt and uncle's house.

It's funny that in the picture, it looks like I'm holding her hand, when in truth, I feel like at least throughout adulthood, she's been the one holding my hand.

Peace

Oh my goodness, these poems....

Because lately I've been so raw, that even beauty, especially beauty, aches. Like that hawk i saw yesterday in the field. It landed right in front of me, only for a second, and then it flew again and perched in the distance. I froze into place, stunned - I've never had a hawk come so close to me before - and watched it, willing it to come back, not wanting to frighten it. Such an encounter, of course I could not hold on to it. He watched me from a distance, and although I wanted to be in his presence more, he flew away and left me in the empty field.
But, this morning, he came back again.

Reflection

Without the slightest movement,

I stand in the blizzard.

Wind raging,

Ice lashing my face.

I have no strength,

And no desire for comfort.

Spring, I am not ready!

But you, Blizzard, are perfect.

You let me show everyone,

The way it’s been inside.

Blizzard, I plead,

Erase me!

Dissolve these thoughts.

Take with you, this hope and resistance,

And sweep this mind empty.

Crack the shell

The scar

Yesterday was my first delivery of the season. I harvested salad mix and arugula and drove to New London in the snow (although the roads were not bad at all), and it was nice to see how excited people were to have fresh greens again. They opened up the container and looked at what I brought, and their faces lit right up with the hope of spring. That made me feel good.

Today it's crazy windy, and bitter cold outside. I took care of the cows and covered my greens in the high tunnel with three layers of cloth. Hopefully they'll make it through tonight, as the temps are supposed to be in the single digits.

Now I'm warm inside, with a whole bunch of books for company.
This is Blue Squills from Sara Teasdale's Collected Poems. I love Sara Teasdale, and it kills me that she committed suicide. I wish I could tell her how much her poems make life more beautiful for me.

How many million Aprils came
   Before I ever knew
How white a cherry bough could be,
   A bed of squills, how blue!

And many a dancing April
   When life is done with me,
Will lift the blue flame of the flower
   And the white flame of the tree.

Oh, burn me with your beauty, then,
   Oh, hurt me, tree and flower,
Lest in the end death try to take
   Even this glistening hour.

O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees,
   O sunlit white and blue,
Wound me, that I through endless sleep
   May bear the scar of you.

Token

Sometimes it's like this

I had a conversation with someone today. I hadn't seen them in a while, and our interaction reminded me about the balance we need to keep between being open/genuine, and being mindful of the other person, of what they're ready or able to hear and take in.  Just because we decide to be open and meet the world from a place of honesty and vulnerability, does not mean that everyone we come in contact with is ready for the same. And that is OK.

You ask me how I am.
I want to be genuine,
I tell you something about myself -
Only a little snippet, but authentic -
And I see your eyes shifting,
I see your discomfort,
This is not what you expected.

I don't want to rock your world,
Make you face inconvenient truths about yourself, myself, all of us.
So I make you happy,
Back off and raise my mask,
Say everything is fine.

Now you relax,
And smile, relieved
That you can go on about your day,
Pretending.

And I,
I'll just keep watching.

A day of homeschooling: learning how to lobby

Yesterday Sena and I went to the Hartford Legislative Building and the Capitol for an event organized by Sierra Club to teach people how to lobby on environmental issues. We saw a few representatives and senators speak, and listened to Sierra Club and CT Fund for the Environment and other environmental organizations discuss strategies for lobbying. We also got to see what the legislative building and Capitol physically look like, and how the offices of elected officials are organized, who their staff is, etc.

We got out of there with a headache and exhausted as it was very noisy and busy (I felt bad for the people working there too, because underneath their business suits and their artificial face mask, most of them seemed tired and harried).

But we learned a few things, including, very importantly, what not to do. All in all, we both agreed that it was worth going.

Peace

Fun

Aiyana put together this sweet little video yesterday (1.5min. long). Enjoy!

Peace

So true

Maya Angelou's words are so meaningful. Never just empty words, carelessly thrown around; always born out of real life experience. That's why they're so powerful.

The timeless theme of wanting to be seen

It's bitter cold today, but sunny. I milked the cows, but there's not much milk now, as they are near the end of their lactation. So I only milk them 3-4 days a week, and I could stop altogether, but I cherish the time outside, in the morning, when it's just me and them.

Nevertheless, it was nice to come in from the cold, and read Maria Popova's Brain Pickings of the week. I came across this beautiful passage, written by Khalil Gibran in 1911, in a letter to Mary Haskell, with whom he had a deep connection.  (source):

There is an old Arabic song which begins “Only God and I know what is in my heart” — and today, after rereading your last three letters, I said out loud “Only God and Mary and I know what is in my heart.” I would open my heart and carry it in my hand so that others may know also; for there is no deeper desire than the desire of being revealed. We all want that little light in us to be taken from under the bushel.

Peace

Question and an answer

Mary Oliver asks:
"What can we do about God, who makes and then breaks every beautiful thing?"

There is no easy answer, but this is what I have:

Keep walking towards light,
Keep your heart open,
And keep loving the world,
Even if it breaks you
Into a million pieces.

Dis-connect