keeping up

Eliana and her parents have made it through the first two weeks of school. The time has been so full. My exhaustion level today is extreme, but extreme in that way that I know I've kept my days meaningful and replete. My mama came for the week to help with Eliana as we adjusted to teacher mode. It is always so wonderful to have her here. She loves being with her girl and they have such a sweet relationship. Eliana can say, "Ga, Ga!" for Gran, which, of course, makes her grandmother beam. One of my favorite multi-generational adventures occurred in Michael's craft shop. Eliana (who is a totally legitimate walker now, by the way--that's a whole other post...) was cruising around this ridiculously full-of-god-knows-what store at lightening speed. I had no idea that Michael's sold pink, plushie stuffed poodles or long strands of fabulous beads. Eliana had no trouble finding all of these sensational items. She would wander through the aisles one way, while my mama was wandering the other way looking for whatever crafty thing she needed. The store was huge and I didn't want us to get lost or totally separated. Plus my mama is not exactly a power walker these days and, of course, she didn't have her cane. I was so focused on Elie, that I lost my mama. So we started to walk down the aisles looking together. I said, "Gran? Where are you?" and Elie said, "Ga? Ga? Ga?" until she got distracted by the yarn that she had to snuggle.



We found each other and carried on. But that moment of worrying about my mom and running after my baby (in Michael's, of all places) and realizing that we all take care of each other in unique and wonderful and exhausting ways, will stick with me.

What else. Jeffy had a birthday. We had a lovely dinner date, though by the end of it, we were both basically passed out on the table we were so tired. We had another anniversary of 9/11. I read the book about Phillipe Petit the performance artist artist who walked between the towers to my class and almost cried. I had one of those moments where I really, really love what I do. I thought about these twin girls in my class who celebrated their second birthdays on 9/11. What must have that been like for their families? How do we raise children with hope when something that astonishing and destructive happening? Which could get me on to the whole "got hope" topic, but I'd like to try and stay on track. All I will say is that my hope is currently high.

Also been a dancing fool. Felt like a bat was taken to my body this week as I recovered from an intense and utterly awe-inspiring weekend with Mouminatou Camara, a master west-African dance teacher from Guinea. I studied with her for a week a few months before I conceived Eliana, and haven't really danced strictly West African since then. Her grace and strength and talent rocked my Saturday last week. By the end of the fifth hour, tears joined the sweat on my cheeks as I took in the drums and took in this phenomenal woman, so unlike any that live here in my little, bubble of a community. I cried for talent and art, but cried that we can't have it all. That Eliana will grow up in a safe, beautiful place, with good, kind neighbors and lots of love, but not a whole lot of opportunities to explore diversity. I thought about how badly I miss having a teacher. While I love teaching dance each week (like absolutely love, love love it) I miss having a source to learn from. I try my best when I'm in the big city, but it's hard when you can't develop a relationship with a mentor. So in my big bad future, I have some personal goals and dancing adventures planned for myself. We'll see....



So I've managed to go from Michael's to New Guinea, all in one blog post. My life is full and wild and I can't exactly strive for cohesion right now. The sun is perfect, the sky is blue, and I have a leek soup on the stove. Eliana's napping, my mama's in the air headed back for Cali, and all I can do is feel so full of gratitude. Thanks for my family, for the warmth, the ache in my legs, the cozy hood of my sweatshirt. For my girlfriends, for my job, for the hammock that I can still enjoy for a few more weeks before the cold settles in. For the experiences and details that make me overjoyed to be here right now.