Friday, February 10, 2012

My Friend Craig

I have this very special friend who is not afraid to reveal himself completely. Upon meeting him, he will always inform the new person to whom he is being introduced that he has Aspergers Syndrome.

Though Craig was delighted to find some relief in a label that better described for him why he was so different to most people, I am always in complete disagreement that it is a handicap whatsoever, for if there was ever a friend I would like to duplicate, it is my friend Craig.

And, I have come to believe that this Aspergers Syndrome has been of great benefit to making Craig exactly who he is...an absolute gem of a friend that one cannot duplicate in one's self, but merely must be ready, willing and able to stand in awe of.

I stood in awe of Craig the day he completely organized, brought his own tools with his home-made and movable work stand and proceeded to mount the top of my flats to fix my precarious water tank. Our flats were yellow stickered until this event could take place. And, we had a 4.2 aftershock while he was up there, but in Craig's terms, "It wasn't a problem", as he was strapped to the tank in a completely professional and safe manner while I was beneath him chewing on my underwear.





When you live in Christchurch, New Zealand, you live with yellow, red and green stickers. Yellow is caution, Red is keep out and Green is go in if you are still willing. I was not willing to go into these flats for nearly a year so traumatized was I in my own mind for several seasons, but that is a different story, this story is about Craig.

Craig has no fear of anything, in fact, he seems to thrive in this new environment heaped upon us so-called normal folks. Before the earthquakes, Craig felt out of place, after the earthquakes, he feels completely at ease while the rest of us look to him for guidance.

Craig's ease does not come from being lazy, but from being completely prepared to learn and do all of life's necessities whilst still finding time to stay up with current affairs of all types. Craig reminds you when the concerts are on, what the latest conflicts are about, what solutions have been discovered and who of importance is coming to town and offers to take you with him wherever he goes.

The fact that Craig has an engineering degree has not gone stale in an environment that does not furnish jobs for people like Craig. Craig creates his own work by helping every single person he knows and hears that might have a problem. He fixes their cars, their homes, chops their wood and stacks it, orders their parts at reduced rates, counsels people with psychological problems, takes you to meditation groups or to get your car warranted and bakes the best cheesecakes in this world! There is nothing Craig will not attempt as long as it brings some benefit to someone.

When Craig is your friend, he is not just there for you, but he is also there for each of your children, your significant other and all your other friends. Craig is a truly universal, completely democratic time sharer who never seems to grow tired of helping anyone with a need. Craig is a living and breathing miracle.

And, he reminds me of someone else I have always wanted to meet...

Moving On

Okay, now that all that STUFF is out of the way...here are the mechanics of life right before Christmas until NOW...

A decision was finally made to move out of Christchurch. I know, many friends from outside Christchurch (especially my family and friends in the USA) are saying, 'finally', but it is not an easy decision to leave behind a city that needs so much help. However, we are convinced now that the only help we can give will be to return to Christchurch from time to time and hopefully bring with us the clarity that can only be gained from a distance.

Christchurch is in deep need of some clarity. And, so are we.

We went on holiday to Kaikora for one night and on to Blenheim for seven more nights and camped in a tent...the most secure feeling in the world for those of us who live in earthquake alley. Having nothing more substantial over one's head than a micro fiber spells RELIEF to the soul continuously checking out the structure or escape routes of homes and buildings in Christchurch. I am looking forward to NOT sleeping with my cell phone at arms length in the very near future!




And, I might add, I am looking forward to living anywhere on all the other many and various known and unknown faultlines in New Zealand with the same underlying awareness that rocking and rolling is always a possibility, but the recent historical record of how things are being addressed in Christchurch, well...I shall not comment except to say that we have decided that for us...distance is in order.




For our many friends who must stay in Christchurch for their own or other reasons...we have acquired many extra tents (a fact) and an open door policy that has always been a part of our ethics (another fact)...come, come as often as you need to become refreshed, camp in our next surroundings and express yourself with as many earthquake stories as you need to exude to clean out the clogged arteries! We will allow you to pick the topic, paint the picture as you see it with your own words, and simply LISTEN. We have no solutions either, only ideas going unheard.

Meanwhile, we have put our home on the market and anticipate a fairly quick sale as it is undamaged. We regret that we have to leave behind Brother John's creation, but Brother John's motto is 'don't worry, be happy' and even he felt this was definitely revisable when standing in the door frame too many times in one day...it pays to worry just a little when living in Christchurch, and at least we know we will leave behind a safe enough place for the next owner to scurry to when the going gets going a little too much. The outdoor kitchen is heaven on earth during a major quake...we know, we got to use it the very first night of its completion.



While on vacation, we fed the eels and ducks a lot, sat by a natural stream and contemplated which way to go. We decided on Blenheim at the top of the South Island, closer to the North Island which we feel we have ignored too long and home to Marlborough Country and the best Savignon Blanc grapes in the world. Even though I do not drink, I certainly enjoy the ambiance of the perfect rows everywhere growing the nectar of the gods...laugh out loud, or so they think. But, it is also next door to the Marlborough Sounds which is and always will be one of my favorite places on this planet...the Sounds are for the spirit a huge upliftment that can be even for a writer, darned near indescribable. Pristine beauty.




We will be close to Picton where we can hop on the boat, go across the strait (on a fine day of course) and investigate what for us has become to feel like another country, the North Island of New Zealand. Should I mention that we will then be situated right on the Great Alpine Faultline? Well, for my worried compadres in Oklahoma, you are sitting on the faultline of fracking, and now, this disease is going viral so I don't reckon anywhere to be safe enough from our own stupidity, but the aesthetics of the region will simply have to make up for it. And, it does...I will send you pictures soon enough.




It has been seventeen months of hard work. We have been fortunate to get out a few times and feel the difference between living in a world not totally focused on devastation and rebuilding and the world of such...the contrast is enormous and the anticipation of getting out and starting over is as you would expect...a real thrill and a real bummer (nice seventies vocabulary)...bittersweet...but, we are not leaving Christchurch entirely behind as we will take it with us on many levels and come back often to visit, encourage and hopefully even one day get to help redirect some of the thinking going on at another time more ripe for ideas that will bring relief instead of more mayhem. Right now, Christchurch feels stuffed with too many minds that need a particular vacation from this place...there are a few who simply need a one way ticket out of here.

Enough. We are busy packing, moving, showing, trying not to tell and telling only what those who must remain behind need to hear...wherever we go, we will take this collective consciousness with us and always have the tents ready for as many as feel the need to spell themselves relief with micro fibers...such a strangely blended world we all now live in...

My love, as always...belongs to each and every one of you...

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Stuff Shuffler

Stuff shuffler,
Mediator,
Contact for medical alerts,
Psychological facilitator,
Mistress of compromise,
Sexual gratification placeholder,
Deliverer of goods of all types,
Hands adapted for brooms and white appliances,
Feet for kicking debris in designated corners,
Monsters play outdoors and gobble all the fresh air while...

She shuffles stuff and mediates the physical and mental health of others while lying back and thinking of another country whose exports threaten to keep everyone forever in debt as the far corners have all been occupied by virtual monsters without the need to breath like her, she finds herself stuffed.

Mounted mummy, find a wall and stay there.

But, the walls are cracking and some mummies fall off their shelves and make functionally obsolete spaces to raise many monsters in. No monster needs a mummy; they simply need a stuff shuffler to keep the path clean for more...

and more...

and more...

There is no nevermore except for a Poe poet that stuff shufflers can never be, too busy keeping the tap tap tapping, go go going for the story makers that are all pointing to the placeholder for the blank spaces the stuff shufflers create for others to write upon.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Drunk on Power

I had to attend a court hearing with someone the other day. I have not been in a court of law in say, twenty something years. I walked in and was immediately approached by the police officer on duty, and she said ‘take those off your head’ and I looked at her dumb struck.

‘What on earth is on my head that is so offensive?'

‘Your eye glasses, take them off now!'

Okay, I thought to myself and folded my reading glasses and stuck them looped into the front of my shirt so that I could locate them again. I did not understand why my eye-glasses offended her, but I thought, okay, we’ll let it slide.

I sat down with my backpack full of books, pens and writing pad as I am in the middle of writing two papers for the end of term, the end of term is now and it is starting to stress me a bit, so I thought well, in case this takes some time I will use it to my benefit and work on my papers.

I was right, it took three hours and a bit. But, as I pulled my pens out of my back pack and set my books and papers beside me, the police officer swooped down on me again.

‘You can’t write in a court of law,’ she shouted at me.

I said nothing and put the pens into my back pack and sat there for a few minutes thinking about this. So, you cannot write, perhaps it is so you won’t write down sensitive information. Okay, it’s a privacy issue, fair enough. Even though I had no intention of writing down what I heard, but simply what I was studying about. I felt I had figured out the pens, but I still felt perplexed about the eye-glasses on top of my head. Okay, I think I will just read then, perhaps she won’t mind if my eye-glasses are on my face as I can see lots of other people with them on.

I managed half a paragraph of Bruno Latour’s Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network Theory and suddenly I have the same police officer in my face again...

‘You can’t read in a court of law’, she shouted at me, because obviously by now, I am looking dumber than most of the other folk all staring at me with shocked faces.

‘What pray tell might I do in a court of law’? I asked indignantly.

‘You can sit there and that’s all.’

‘Well, no wonder the world is full of illiterate criminals,’ I bellowed.

And, with that she left me alone as I threw my eye glasses back onto the top of my head and challenged her to arrest me for having four eyes ill equipped to read or write with!

This is a sad state of affairs when the world is more concerned about a fifty-five year old graduate student trying to write her Master’s theses when simply accompanying someone to court for moral support. I should have expected it though, I was a support person for someone convicted of stealing her own stuff, and that didn’t seem to matter to the legal system either...all I saw that day was an institution that has turned into nothing but a revenue generating facility drunk on power.

I remember thinking as I left...I will WRITE ABOUT THIS!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

How My Garden Grows this Spring 2011 in Christchurch, New Zealand

There is a pot in my garden that reflects how radically hysterical I can feel on some days...


And then, you can open my secret garden gate and behold my neighbour's wysteria...


Or walk on out upon a trail of petals...


But, I suggest you come back in from time to time and help watch my garden grow as it appears to be a good show this season...


I have decided to use this space as an ongoing diary for the many fruits and vegetables (and nuts, of all kind!) that my husband Clark, and my daughter Kasey and I are all committed to growing for pleasure, consumption and just to watch sometimes...and, for my family and folks back home...here is a little message that never sleeps...from me to 'y'all'....


WATCH THIS SPACE from time to time...it will GROW....Love, K

FIRST GARDEN STORY: HOW MY POPPIES GROW

What if the noise you make is the last thing someone else ever hears?
Will it bring comfort, or simply make them glad it is the last chance someone has to perform upon their world?

Criticisms and over-revved engines are proliferating this world, this world we all share for however long one gets to. Sometimes, it feels too long, sometimes not long enough, but always that depends a lot on what you HEAR...

I struggle to quiet the noise of my world, living on a corner in Christchurch wherein everything has sped up since the beginning of earthquakes. A lot of traffic has been diverted to the street I live on surrounding my garden and since Christchurch was always a city wherein the birds could be heard, they are still there, but mostly muffled by over-revved engines and discouraging words.

I cannot say those last two words without hearing the song “Home on the Range” in my head, so automatically I dream of living somewhere else where the ‘deer and the antelope play’, but I take my past ‘plug-ins’ and beat them back with my hard earned education and what do I have left...

“Silence is Golden” begins to play in my head!

And, the remonstrations of my past perfect parents, “If you don’t have something nice to say, say nothing at all”...but then, who would get to talk these days?! Or, so it appears, but I say...

Take a walk in your garden and find new ways to phrase the things that make you feel negatively. Bloom a language that will make life less difficult for the hearer, water the words that will bring more growth, pluck the words that threaten the opposite by simply not using them anymore...if those things go unsaid, they seem to disappear....

And, if not, and you recognize that these things still need to be discussed, THEN, try pure description rather than critique of any kind...
For today, every time you go to criticize another person or thing, STOP AND ASK YOURSELF:

How can I describe this person or situation without criticizing at all?

It’s a new game I am playing with myself, and the few times I have managed to truly pull it off, I could actually see the poppy growing taller...of course, there will always be poppies that need some propping up...be a friend, give them a kind of descriptive place to reside, rather than a criticism and see what blooms inside your garden, the one on the busy street with all the revved up engines...


I think it more than a little ironic that my red poppy is propped up by the recycling bin...


Wed 26 Oct 2011

I would be remiss if I did not share some photos from my extended garden of Hagley Park in Christchurch, New Zealand. We have more to talk about than just earthquakes...


Though it was a grey day, and few people out, the flowers were, like most survivors of human and non-human manipulations...extraordinary!



GROW ON...CHRISTCHURCH!!! There's nothing more to say...

Friday, September 23, 2011

Thoughts About Facebook

In one of the classes I take, university students admitted to having difficulties completing their papers because of the pull of Facebook. One student admitted to deleting themselves entirely off Facebook as the only solution to keep ‘enough focus’ to write a paper. Many more nodded in agreement.

I do not struggle to stay off Facebook, I struggle to stay on it. But then, I am a fifty-five year old student of life. The students telling me they struggle to stay off Facebook are another wave, generation, workforce, next group of leaders, thinkers, contributors, actors, rehabilitators, reactionaries, respite and/or mighty mess makers of our collective future.

Is this a problem? Probably yes and no, like so many things we have begun to equalize and rationalize as necessary parts of our every day experiences. My friend that came to visit me was quietly texting someone else under the dining room table. My reaction might certainly be different on Facebook instead of ‘in your face’, to be sure, because I grew up when it was a sign of being rude to give your attention to anything other than the person you came to visit. I believe my friend now prefers to greet me virtually and not physically. Come to think of it, I do not hear anything from this friend anymore. I forged a new set of manners by telling my friend to their face what I thought about texting someone else while visiting with another.

I can share that my ‘focus’ and ‘uninterrupted periods of time’ are generally interrupted by things like friends with failing health, birthdays, deaths, children with psychological traumas, over-active children, just plain intelligent children, women, men, dogs, cats, birds, flowering plants, vegetables and fruit trees, all in need of a little attention that distracts me from ‘enough focus’ and punctuates my periods of time, but then, they don’t derail me like Facebook can to the student trying to finish a complex paper, they make me grow, expand, and create a space and time worth being in so I care enough to write the paper in the first place.

Facebook is the new hyper-active kid on the block, and it is time we all decided just how much time we need to spend with this new friend, as opposed to all our old friends like reading, writing and arithmetic, and uh, physical family and friends.

I am talking to a tune of ‘a disappearance’ from our society, that disappearance being the one called ‘solitude’. The capacity to be alone and at peace with one’s self in order to do or think about anything worthwhile, profound and not just responsive, as instant communications and quick information overload creates immediate and un-lasting results. No ‘solitude’, no class paper. No ‘solitude’, no new ideas. No ‘solitude’ no healing, epiphanies, and rejuvenation. Feeling pitted, plastered, knackered, disjointed? Then, you are too plugged in. ‘Turn off’ is the newest form of music for our ears. Seek solitude, and visit Facebook once a week or once a day, but by all means, control it, not it control us and NEVER at the expense of what is right in front of our faces, minus the electronic devices.

‘Solitude’ is a necessary environment which gives birth to ‘enough focus’ through ‘uninterrupted periods of time’ so that any student can write a paper at university level. Toss in the thousands of electronic texts shot toward the rising generation, the blinking boxes on our computers, cell phones and television sets and try to follow the translations of dis-ease caused by connecting with everyone at one time and not with one’s own mind, wherein students of any age stay off the page, otherwise known as not ‘focused enough’, creating the voids we are all beginning to FEEL, but find it hard to explain. Am I making sense? I think I am, but chances are, there is no one out there to respond with, we all just went a ‘twittering’ off somewhere else I suspect, once again.

Write. Write enough to find some new and different ideas to explore, that is why we go to a place to learn, to discuss different ideas, the place we discuss those with ourselves is in the space of silence, or while writing to one’s self, like this. I bet you thought this writing was for you, well, it is mostly for myself, but if it helps you, too, I am happy for that, but when I write, I write to find out what in fact I think about deep enough and strongly enough to WRITE about and push publish.

I care about the pull of Facebook; I care enough to have a sign in my office that says INTERNET ONLY from this time to this time, and after that, none of it!

Do I always adhere? No, but I do try and I am very conscious of the pull of not just Facebook, but anything and everything that will subtract me from myself for too long and thereby turn me into someone who points my finger toward another break in my solitude that then prohibits my showing up for myself at all.

Who amongst us can truly learn anything without deep contemplation, re-collecting all the information that has been blasted at us. We need to take the time to deconstruct, then reconstruct information so that we can achieve some kind of rational goal, like peace, like quiet.

I find that to be the single thing I desire from any experience, peace, and how hard that is when plugged into too many electronic devices that control my input and output in and to the world at large. If I cannot wait to go post the fact that I just made a new batch of cookies, the kind you really eat, and not the kind that attach themselves to me when I am online, then, perhaps it is time to take a decided Facebook holiday, contemplate and think up a new recipe to share, out there, all over the place, all at one time to everyone, this should be important stuff we stop the world in order to share, right?

And, the only reason I have for being on Facebook is that it is the major place I can find someone I know who might respond back to me. I have only one friend left who will write me an email, a letter, and, the rest of the world has simply disappeared into Facebook.

If you can’t beat them you have to join them is my syndrome I tell myself, but then lying in bed at night and the last thing my daughter says to me is ‘do you have your cell phone on you?’ and this happens now, and once, not so very long ago, like a reverse fairy story, it didn’t happen at all, I was not wired for sound but I liked the world better when I held a meaningful conversation with you, and not every day, but only when it was ‘our’ time to be together, now suddenly, we are all sick with one another’s problems at the exact same time through Facebook.

Turn this off now and go THINK about something. Write it down and send it to me, I will read it when 'I decide', which might be once a day, early in the morning and then OFF. After that, there is no room for technology in my life unless there is an earthquake to report on instantly to ease distant minds.

I am committed to being consciously alive, safeguarding my own 'solitude' and finishing this term of papers so I can come back to the wider world, but with boundaries in place, not just on Facebook, but fully present and fully un-present, whatever the case may be, depending on my own need for 'solitude'.

Enough is enough. Facebook needs self monitoring. Just do it! And, I just did.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Two Weeks in America (Not Long Enough)

I have lived in New Zealand for nine years now. And, it helps to be specific and say, Christchurch, New Zealand, as now, I live in a place that feels continuously dangerous on many levels. Any level over ground level feels dangerous when you are plagued with the mountain building a country can do when it is having earthquakes and aftershocks nearly every day, many times a day, without any way to predict, and/or eradicate them.
So, two weeks in America was sounding good for a change, and I had important people in my life to catch up with.

Needful to say, I would be travelling back to my original home during two marked anniversaries. One year from the original earthquake in Christchurch and ten years on from 9/11. It has been a shocking decade for me; it has been a shocking decade for most people. I am here to tell you it makes no difference what you are afraid of; FEAR is a democratic e-motion that propels seemingly sane people into insane head spaces, fear is now our common enemy when we take off our shoes and empty our pockets to board every airplane anywhere in the world. All our spaces have become homogenized by fear.

And yet, what I found living at grass roots level all over the United States, where ever I went, was not fear at all, but the stuff that made me realize once again, America is a truly strong country, not because of anything more outstanding and important than its PEOPLE.

I have to tell you American PEOPLE, I was truly impressed with the lot of you. And, not just because you were already important to me, as you are and always will be, but because I had an opportunity to peek into your lives rather quickly and on the fly with not much opportunity for you to change any existing situation, altercation, lifestyle choice, or the colour of your walls, your walls all seemed the same in one profound way, they were all still standing and without one single exception, built with LOVE.

I was LOVED on by ex-husbands, ex-step children, friends I had not seen in a shocking decade and even longer, taxi drivers, waiters and waitresses, my own children and theirs, strangers on street corners and even those I had altercations with due to jet lag and the inability to wear my own shoes, other Americans offered me their shoes instead.

America, you are amazing and gifted with the profoundest capacity to spread the most powerful e-motion yet. Your rootstock e-motion is not one of fear, but of LOVE. This profound capacity is your major Major, which equips you with the arms to end all wars poured out onto your mediated heads. I stand in awe of you, now from a distance and reconcile why on earth I would ever live anywhere else, if but not for a chance, to spread the LOVE somewhere else.

And, I have no fear left in me that you might not always be the greatest nation on this planet as long as you remember to LOVE all others the way you loved on me for two weeks in America.

Thank you one and all, you KNOW who you are, and you KNOW what to do, and ‘y’all’ do it better than anywhere else I have ever been. It is in this way that Americans are truly EXCEPTIONAL. Keep living it, it is not a dream, it is your reality that makes all the difference and can be the best ‘wildfire’ of all.....xoxoxo, yours always!