Beloved

I spent some time working on a personal statement. Maybe its ______, maybe it is _____________, but I'd like to share it with you. I'll be in Providence for the week, if anyone is reading this and wants to hang out.

In 2004, my good friend Emily asked me to be with her in the hospital when she gave birth to her son. She had expressed a great deal of concern during her pregnancy about the pain of childbirth, and she feared she would somehow fail at the immense task before her. During her difficult labor, which lasted more than thirty hours, friends and family did our best to encourage Emily, but it was clear to everyone in the room that the support of her midwife was helping her most of all. This woman was experienced enough to provide Emily with several coping techniques and comfort measures, and her expertise was a source of endurance and calm. She addressed Emily with a tone that was always respectful, yet she knew how to be assertive when Emily needed structure. Most importantly, she refused to give up on Emily, even when my incredibly exhausted friend wanted to give up on herself. Reflecting on the experience afterwards, I realized that the ordeal of childbirth allowed Emily to tap into a strength she had not known she possessed, and that her guide in finding this strength was her midwife.
I keep the memory of that experience with me in my journey into health care. My experiences in midwifery training were my first insight to anatomy, physiology, and the many processes of the childbearing years. As I have learned, my interests have grown beyond the scope of midwifery into the fields of medicine. My background in midwifery forms the foundation of my philosophy of health care, and helps to guide me as I work toward becoming a doctor. I have learned to see health care as a way to guide patients to their own strength. My dearest goal in becoming a doctor is to focus my life’s full energy on this purpose, for, in the words of Gwendolyn Brooks, “we are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.”

Zoe, I do.

Zoe, today you were born of your mom's mighty belly and the fierce look she shoots us from her pillow - "YOU did this to me!" I feel that we have a good sense of our boundaries, but you sink into who I am like two hands sink into a fifty gallon drum of dry soybeans. We have caressed our lovers, and we have both felt so lonely and panicked thinking of everything they couldn't see in us. We have struggled to show them, but all the while we have truly witnessed each other with the same love and care we sought from them.
Zoe Prizer, I promise to love and honor you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.

Happy Bloomsday, Jophet!

Joph - I am trying to rally for your potlatch! Touch and Go!
I love you, dear friend. Happy Birthday!

Like I'm Free of the Air I Breathe

Every morning when we have our seance with Artemis, she recites her vows:

Sentient beings are numberless - I vow to seek their salvation.
Desires are inexhaustible - I vow to be free of them.
The Logos is an endless sea - I vow to sail it truly.
The Way in unsurpassable - I vow to realize its truth.

This morning I awoke from a dream about being on a bus in Japan. I told the driver I wanted to go to Narita Airport and she told me I'd missed the last bus to Narita already. She said it kind of scoldingly so I smiled extra big and tried to play it like I didn't care. I thought, no big deal, I'll just call Li Wen Yuan and have a night out with him. But he is in prison. Then I was in Helene's house having a conversation with Lynn, who is pregnant and I am her doula. "Everything seems to be falling into place," I told her, "so why do I still feel unfulfilled?" When Lynn first told people she was pregnant, she was annoyed that they kept expecting her to be manically excited about it. They did not want to accept her ambivalence.

This dream was on my mind during the seance this morning, so I repeated to myself, "Make peace with your life."

I think some of the anxiety is the influence of the Shrew. She is a shrewd shrew - she keeps me honest. She has encouraged me to think a lot about some important experiences of the past few days, such as:

-Playing music on the porch with the neighbors who actually have a band, and though it was fun and I learned some good songs, I left feeling inadequate and definitely like a master of NO trades.

-Taking my Final Exam in Ancient Etruscan Composition - adrenaline rush.
-Going to the opening for the comics anthology Secrets and Lies in White River Junction, which was followed by a show by the wonderful treasure Pariah Beat. Walked along Connecticut River with Siyavash and a pack of small dogs belonging to various train hopping hobo band members. Then we met a really cute boy who came here from the city because he's in love with his farmer boyfriend, and now he's incredibly bored. He read our tarot cards and was quite insightful.

Two of the bands were from New Orleans, so I figured they might know Zoe from the Miss Rockaway. Turns out they did! There were also a few other connections there. It all made me feel very good about living here, plus I skanked my heart out and tried to enjoy how dorky I must have looked, rather than being embarrassed.

To tell you the truth, this was a very important evening for me. I felt self conscious about being a pre-med student at Bloomsburg, and for purely ego-driven reasons, I missed being able to say I lived in a cabin in the woods with no running water or electricity, or any number of other things like that that I used to be able to say. I remember feeling that way in Providence a year ago, watching Corrinne's eyes go all dreamy when Zoe was talking about Ida. I was all, "umm, remember me? I used to do some cool things, too! Did I mention the Feminist Health Center? Over here - could you look at me like that, please?" So silly.

One other aspect of that evening that was very important to me was the unspoken and absolutely fundamental importance of my exposure to other women with unshaven legs. Throughout my entire year at Bloomsburg, I have not encountered ONE other unshaven female leg, even at queer events. So I started telling myself, maybe its not that important, of course it looks weird when you wear a dress, you'll still be the same person, etc etc. And, really, it wouldn't be the first time. But I just knew in my heart I'd be doing it for the wrong reasons. So going to this show and feeling like my values were shared by the hobo heroes has reinfused me with hirsute pride.

I read that sometimes Buddhists make little cakes and lay them out as an offering to their neuroses. It is a way of saying thank you to these challenging thought patterns for giving you an opportunity to wake up and take another step in your practice. That would be a nice way to spend the afternoon!