Winter blues and blushes

There are a lot of tired, unhappy people in a five o'clock rush hour. Today, I was one of them. The cold's a force to be reckoned with, a solid mass of air it seems that needs to be pushed back, fought, wrestled, rebuked at every turn. The Queen streetcar was a sardine can and as I made my way down the stairs into the subway, stepping with care so as not to fall, I felt a fatigue so huge it washed tsunami-style over my head. It was a fatigue from the day, from teaching four classes, sleeping poorly the night before, and maybe my immune system which has taken a beating crying out on top of everything else.

It's days like this I want spring to come so badly. I am hibernation mode - while my friends delight in snowboarding, skating, skiing, toboganning, I want to hibernate, bury myself in blankets, build forts of cushions, read by my faux fireplace on my faux Indian rug, drink tea, copious amounts of tea, and like the boy in The Neverending Story finding his little nest in the school attic, I want to bury myself in books.

Winter makes me an introvert. I need this season, really. I don't hate it. It's a time of introspection. My body is more covered, hence I myself am more guarded, protective, less inclined to take leaps and bounds. But I'm fine with that. I wish people would stop telling me, "You should just get out and enjoy the snow!" I do enjoy it. I like walking down quiet sidestreets looking at the snow on branches and icicles, and the soft drifting kind of snow that makes everyone feel about six years old again. But I enjoy it in my own quiet way, extrovert that I am, at my extroverted job that requires me to be an entertainer more than a teacher sometimes. Much of the time. And this, in turn, this cycle of regeneration, enables me to appreciate spring - my birth season - with more love and appreciation than almost anyone I know.

But that's just me.

Burning desires

I'm teetering on the verge of a major decision...ready to take the plunge into the unknown and go to my first Burning Man Festival! It's a big scary decision to make. Saving up that kind of money isn't easy for me, and the challenge of the elements, basic comfort and survival all terrify me in way, since I am a girl who loves her creature comforts (I'm a Taurus, after all).

So, who else is going? How do you plan on getting there? Who are you camping with? Any advice for a first-timer?

Would love to hear advice, stories, recommendations, experiences. Dazzle me, entice me, shock me, warn me, whatever you like!

Poem: Stripping for Rilke

Stripping for Rilke


When her soul oozed out of her skin, bleeding
like a ghost of ink, my mouth stretched

wide to catch its taste, its melt, that February
day in Montreal, in the bookstore on Milton, she stripped

away layers of ice-damp wool, casting off
the heavy skins of winter, and a pale

bare arm emerged, scattering freckles
like grains of wild rice

and reaching past my amber face for Rilke’s
Duino Elegies she raised her gentle voice and read:

"Every angel is terrible, and still, alas knowing all that,
I serenade you, you almost deadly birds of the soul."


(This poem originally appeared in lichen literary journal www.lichenjournal.ca - Fall 2003.)

You'll laugh, you'll cry...or maybe you'll just PLOTZ

You must, must must MUST check out my dear friend James' blog. It is, in his word, "snortalicious":

www.jamesrb.blogspot.com/

On Natalie Goldberg's "The Great Failure: A Bartender, A Monk, and My Unlikely Path to Truth"

I received this book as one of my Christmas presents from my mother, and it took me all of two days to read it, all 192 pages of it. Natalie Goldberg, author of "Writing Down the Bones" and "Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life," among others, once again shows herself at the top of her game in this poignant and heart-wrenching look at the lives and deaths of two great men: her father, the gambling, penny-pinching, life-loving Ben "Buddy" Goldberg from Brooklyn, and Dainin Roshi Katagiri, the Japanese Zen Master at the Minnesota Zen Center, Goldberg's spiritual teacher for almost twenty years. Both men taught her invaluable lessons, but ultimately betrayed her trust, causing Goldberg to tailspin into a vortex of anger and self-doubt. Goldberg captures her relationships with these two key figures in her life, interspersed with Zen koans that illustrate "a deeper kind of failure: the great failure, a boundless surrender."

Although the betrayals Goldberg unearths in "The Great Failure" would in some people's eyes constitute grounds for depression, or sufficient cause to repress and deny these painful discoveries, ultimately we find greater solace in opening our eyes and acknowledging the truth. Goldberg strives to recognize that failure should not drown us in misery any more than achievement should elevate the ego - they are, in Zen Buddhist thought, one and the same. To rest at zero, present in each moment, is the ideal: "We spend our life on a roller coaster with rusty tracks, stuck to highs and lows, riding from one, trying to grab the other. To heal ourselves from this painful cycle--the severe split we create and then the quasi equilibrium we try to maintain--we have to crash. Only then can we drop through to a more authentic self."

Indeed, Goldberg's authentic self reveals itself in the pages of this memoir. She forces her parents to acknowledge the real picture of her childhood, as opposed to the glossy airbrushed version they recall, and confronts former Zen colleagues when uncovering a scandal that shakes the very foundation of her core. "The Great Failure" succeeds in stripping the excess fat away from the bones, and stands in the cold, her naked soul wind-whipped and raw, unflinching as the onslaught of memories charges towards her. Goldberg releases the Pamplona bulls from the corral and faces them head-on, trusting that if she uses her intuition, follows the path of honesty and examines her fears, she will live to tell the story. And what a story she tells.

"The Great Failure: A Bartender, A Monk and My Unlikely Path to Truth" by Natalie Goldberg (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2004), 192 pp.

Solstice in the Laurentians

Morin Heights, Quebec

It's a beautiful day in the Laurentians. The sky's a fierce blue, the river running behind Kelly's house gushing a song over the rocks, flowing under the bridge just down the road and continuing on into the mountains. There are fresh rabbit tracks in the snow and Rocky, half-Rottweiler half-Great Pyrenees, is barking to be let in. A crow landed on a branch just above the deck, which overlooks the forest and river. It's above zero, maybe three or four degrees, amazingly mild for this time of year.

Last night Kelly's mom gave us a gift certificate for dinner at a lovely restaurant in the village. We walked along the dark highway up the winding streets into town, careful to walk on the opposite side of traffic. The place was small and intimate and cozy and called "Le Petit Prince" of all things, named for one of my favourite books as a child--hell, even as an adult; we had lamb and mint jelly and red wine and perfect asparagus and squash and fruit dipped in chocolate for dessert and spent over three hours talking and laughing and catching up on our "deals" as Kelly has always called them.

Walking home the stars were amazing. Being out of the city even for a night I feel stronger, healthier, more alive. On the bus ride up here, listening to the layered, textured ambient down-tempo grooves of my old friend Michael Thompson (a.k.a. DJ Polyphonic, now residing in Taiwan), I could make out the shapes of mountains in the dark, like the curves of a woman sleeping on her side.

Soon, when Kelly gets out of the shower, we will be taking "one of those dodgy Laurentian taxis" to Le Spa Bagni (www.spabagni.com/), where for $30 we get to use all the facilities, including the Finish sauna, outdoor whirlpool, Turkish steam bath, swimming pool with sea salt, and if we're feeling brave enough, a quick dip in the river! We went in March and it was divine...oddly enough this weather makes it feel like March too, though more of a lion than a lamb.

My digital camera's on the fritz, but we're borrowing Kelly's mom's camera, and I have my little disposable with me, so pics will soon follow.

Happy Winter Solstice,
Lisa

More grad party fun....

The girls from my class! Carmen (Cuba), Moon Jin (Korea), Akiko (very drunk, Japan!), and yours truly....

Dancin' with my students!

Last week, we had our annual end of year grad party for all the students completing their language course after spending nine months here in Canada learning English. As usual, good times ensued - it's always a trip being treated like a celebrity ("Teacher! Please can I take picture with you?").

Why do Jewish holidays always conflict with cool events?

This Friday night is the first night of Hannukah. I've never been religious, at least not in the traditional sense, but it's family time and I get a little sentimental about that every year. I only wish the eight days of presents thing were true! Anyway, if I weren't busy doing the holiday thing with my mom and sister, this is where I'd be. Who knows? Maybe we'll finish up early enough so I can get my first skating of the year going on! I suck at skating, but I always manage to have a good time without breaking my neck, which for me is quite a feat (as anyone who bore witness to my rapids incident at the Boreal festival or heard about my numerous bike accidents over the past year will attest to).

So this is where it's at:

DJ Skating Night at Harbourfront Centre
Presented by: Harbourfront Centre

Strap on your skates and hit the ice to House, Tribal, Breaks and Funky Techno beats. The Natrel rink is your dance floor with DJs Simon Jain, Phantasm and Tommy Gunners spinning the tunes. Skating under the stars on the edge of Lake Ontario to DJs – this transforms the Toronto winter from cold to cool…

All ages are welcome to this free event, the first of four DJ Skating Nights at Harbourfront Centre’s Natrel Rink. This event is brought to you by Harbourfront Centre and Nocturnal Magazine.net. Featuring DJs Simon Jain (House & Tribal), Phantasm (House) and Tommy Gunners (Breaks & Funky Techno). Harbourfront Centre also offers skate rentals and sharpening, changing rooms with lockers, heated and fully licensed restaurant and Free Natrel hot chocolate.

Runs: Dec 15, 2006
At: Harbourfront Centre, 235 Queens Quay West, Toronto
Playing: Friday
Times: 8 pm - 11 pm
Cost: Free
Getting there: Spadina streetcar to Queens Quay

For more information contact: Cary Mignault
Phone: 416.973.4655
Email: cmignault[at]harbourfrontcentre[dot]com

The Weight

I love this song. Something about The Band always inspires me, fills me with a nostalgia that's sweet but not too sweet, like chocolate that's a little on the bitter side, and good for you because of it. And it reminds me that everything's going to be okay. I'm in transition right now. I'm struggling to find balance in my life, and keep things real. The Band is good for that. I like Robbie Robertson's voice telling me to take a load off. It keeps me grounded. Where I want to be.