Hard to believe that a year has passed, beyond the day of leaving New Hampshire, Dartmouth, Room 12 and the world inhabited for 54 days.
These weeks of the last two months have been strange - different - difficult - interesting. The weight and wait of memory and now at last, summer officially ending. The equinox has come and gone, Autumn has arrived; days are noticeably shorter, the light is fading and yet with it there is, interestingly enough, a spurt, a surge of something happening. Movement forward and time passing into a different chapter.
Along with that might be the end of this particular chapter and the beginning of a new one. This post, like so many in days past, goes out with such gratitude and thanks to you who were and are there in so many ways and forms. To bring you some news, tie this knot and start a new and maybe different thread.
Posting from Maryland, where Sage and yours truly arrived last September. We are still here and much has happened, which can at times be hard to discern, as it can be difficult to measure the happenings that are of a more internal, inner orientation.
Sage is doing well and perhaps and at last she may post..... she finished the semester of school in May, returned from Guilford to Annapolis and promptly started working two jobs! Went on a two week trip to the Bahamas with friend Cheyanne from San Francisco, to Harbor Island where the wonderful Barry/Tyler family welcomed them both with love and sunshine.
Visited doctors and continued to get a 'thumbs up' to health and recovery, while recognizing that these things do take time.
And as for now, Sage has taken a leave of absence for this semester and is going to Israel until December. Leaving September 30th with her mom from Boston and it will be quite an adventure!
So why leave from Boston? and why Israel?
Well that's a bit of a story.
Leaving from Boston so as to go make a visit to Dartmouth, to those who cared for Sage last summer. To say thank you. To come back 'round again and greet those who were with her throughout the days and nights.
And Israel, well many many years ago, when yours truly was just a teenager herself, about 30 years ago, she set off and went to volunteer on a kibbutz. Beautiful one at that, in the desert and with a huge sky for both sun and moon. Met, became and stayed friends with wonderful remarkable people who are all too willing to have Sage come and volunteer on the kibbutz, live and work with them and see a different part of the world and way of life. It's far far away, which is a bit of a hiccup, but being with such good friends every day who will watch out for her, it will be alright.
Nathan will keep up the great work he is accomplishing at Annapolis High School, being in Grade Eleven and an AP English class, while working four nights a week at a restaurant. We are grateful and thankful that Gramma and Pop are here to be with him for a few weeks, while his mom and sister go east, very very east......
until the next posting and post, always gratitude to you, and blessings on your day and days.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
April 10, 2011: Update from Maryland
It has been, so it seems, a hugely long time since arriving at this place again. Place and space that held sway for so long, of words sensed, written and sent out to you, the circle, which now gives way to other forms of prayer and connection. Autumn left us and passed into winter.The silent brooding sleep of darkness and quiet that the cold evenings held now rolls into a riot of color and blossom. It is so green, so remarkably fresh after all these months of hard frozen ground. When you see the sun like that, the magnolia trees blossoming, daffodils doing their dance, it is hard to remember the other.
But I digress. If you are still out there in this ethereal world of 'the blog', following, waiting, wondering how this story and journey continues and has continued to unfold, many apologies for the long silence. Hard to explain it, and the best and only explanation perhaps is the view outside. Leaves beginning to burst. Shoots and tendrils, tender green emerging from the ground. Something waking up and stirring within. Longer days. Birdsong. Softness in the air.
Yes yes fine, but what about Sage. Where is she, how is she? you want to know.
She is well. She is good, back in the saddle. Celebrated her 20th birthday in January. Even though the bill of health is not 100% and it will take a year to get back to a baseline of something resembling pre-Dartmouth, what can be said is that compared to where she was and where she could have been, she is doing great. Walking, talking, breathing, exercising, continuing to heal and rejuvenate. At college, wonderful Guilford College, in North Carolina since January, taking three classes and doing well in all of them. She came home for Spring Break and will be done for the year in less than a month. Continuing to be her feisty self, continuing to make friends and waves wherever she goes.
But how is she, you persist politely. How is she? What does she remember? What does she say? How has she changed?
She is, well, she is Sage.And that in a word is a world.
If you were to see her outside or meet her on the street, you wouldn't think anything different at all. You might be drawn to wanting to know, to uncover some vestige of that time up there in New Hampshire. How it impacted and imprinted itself on her. As Sage herself expressed so clearly when asked by Pop, who asked the question, that after this near-death experience, how is it for you, what lesson have you drawn from it, how has it changed you - because for God's sake it must have - she said she didn't know, because she wasn't really there for most of it. She was sleeping.
Time, perhaps, may be the only thing that draws it out. The lesson, the healing, the answer to such a question. Time and life have a way of doing that, as both just go on, unequivocally.
Sage shared the following article she wrote for her Journalism class, back in February. The professor read the part in bold out loud to the class, an informal award of kudos, apparently, when such a thing is done. As in, this is really good, this needs to be shared and exemplified. The answer to "how is Sage" perhaps is in this, her own writing and thoughts.....You be the judge.
"The viewing audience worldwide for the World Cup was 700 million. The viewing audience in the US alone for the Super Bowl last year was 106 million.
Why is the Super Bowl such a big deal? In a way, it seems to recall the primitive days of our earlier ancestors — men using force to get what they want.
But maybe that is why it is so exciting to watch. The Gladiator aspect of the game — two teams physically duking it out — brings out our bloodthirsty, frenzied side. It’s action-packed with a side of danger, guaranteed to ramp up the adrenaline and testosterone.
A study by Scientific American shows that watching your team win boosts testosterone, while the fans of the losing team have their testosterone levels decreased. This plays into the notion of social domination and competitiveness that has ensured our species survival — it’s survival of the fittest at its finest.
Perhaps we are biologically prone to become somewhat addicted to these exhilarating and dangerous sports. After all, nobody watches chess for the excitement.
Physicality’s aside, one has to wonder at the ethics of spending 2.5 million dollars on a 30-second ad, according to CBS. The most watched ad last year was the Betty White Snickers ad, which currently has 2,301,481 views on YouTube.
I admit I enjoy watching the Super Bowl ads as much as the next person, but I don’t think that is adequate justification for indulging in the pomp and circumstance of the Super Bowl. And then there’s all the money spent on the halftime show.
America is a land where we do everything big — big cars, big houses, and big sporting events. But while half the country is going big, the other half is going hungry.
What if the NFL used some of the millions of dollars the Super Bowl generated to promote sports in disadvantaged neighborhoods? I would feel a lot better about watching the Super Bowl if they make even a small effort to help their less fortunate viewers using proceeds from their Super Bowl fortune.
All in all, despite its problems, the Super Bowl is something we do together as a nation. It's something that unifies us. At the same time on the same day a third of our country sits down and watches the Super Bowl — a sporting event that has, arguably, overtaken the World Series. Regardless of your opinion of the event you have to agree that in today's world unity is something we all need to strive for."
There is still so much to say, to share, to express, but for now, let us leave it at this. If you are still out there, still following, still wondering, send a thought, and I will continue to post. Promise. Really really, and not in five months' time. An update upon Sage's return for the summer, maybe even get her to blog when she is back from school. Know that I keep all of you, always and forever, close to my heart, in my words and prayer of gratitude and thanks. And I will leave you, for now, with this image from several months ago, when I took Sage back to Guilford. We got there and it was cold with a biting wind. And then it started to snow! the first day of classes, so I got stuck for a day. But then the storm traveled on, the sun came out and everything was clear. Classes started, students arrived, and the rhythm of a college semester began again.
"The sun is brilliant, achingly so as it picks up the life of the snow that lays about, covered under a layer of glittery ice like frosting on a cake gone brittle. It makes the sky so blue. A blue that is beyond this moment and time. Light years that have travelled to this moment. Of pause. Expectancy. Waiting.
Slowly they begin to emerge. Movement begins. Figures emerge from the buildings, holding the last bite of a hurried breakfast, or vestiges of sleep still upon them. Books in backpacks. Jackets tucked up against the biting cold that seems to want to play and remind us how alive we really can be.
It's time to go, I know, and yet I have to pause, for just a lingering moment, in the sunshine, behind the slant of the pillar and brick building that holds so much love. Standing in the sun, against this wall brought forth by human hands, I give thanks yet again to someone long ago who had a vision.
It's time to go and yet I know that she will be here, somewhere, down the walk, on her way to class. I know her walk so well, the gait, gaze always forward, hands tucked in against the cold. More figures spring onto the walks as the time draws nearer to the hour. Where is she? Will she be alright? Is this really happening? for the sun and sky seem so beautiful and surreal.
And then I see her. Almost miss her in looking but the gait, the bounce and the hair, always the hair, is unmistakable.
Even from this distance, she is calm. Serene. Completely in charge of the moment.
The experience of walking to class is palpable, a memory of my own and anyone who feels in that morning sun, walking across campus, that anything is possible.
The snow sparkles. Off she goes. Down the walk, into the sun. A moment like no other. I only say out loud, I love you Sage.
Does she hear it on the wind?
I can tell that she is happy. She turns. Into the sun. Out of the patch. Off we go."
Peace and blessings and much love upon you and yours, your day and days.
But I digress. If you are still out there in this ethereal world of 'the blog', following, waiting, wondering how this story and journey continues and has continued to unfold, many apologies for the long silence. Hard to explain it, and the best and only explanation perhaps is the view outside. Leaves beginning to burst. Shoots and tendrils, tender green emerging from the ground. Something waking up and stirring within. Longer days. Birdsong. Softness in the air.
Yes yes fine, but what about Sage. Where is she, how is she? you want to know.
She is well. She is good, back in the saddle. Celebrated her 20th birthday in January. Even though the bill of health is not 100% and it will take a year to get back to a baseline of something resembling pre-Dartmouth, what can be said is that compared to where she was and where she could have been, she is doing great. Walking, talking, breathing, exercising, continuing to heal and rejuvenate. At college, wonderful Guilford College, in North Carolina since January, taking three classes and doing well in all of them. She came home for Spring Break and will be done for the year in less than a month. Continuing to be her feisty self, continuing to make friends and waves wherever she goes.
But how is she, you persist politely. How is she? What does she remember? What does she say? How has she changed?
She is, well, she is Sage.And that in a word is a world.
If you were to see her outside or meet her on the street, you wouldn't think anything different at all. You might be drawn to wanting to know, to uncover some vestige of that time up there in New Hampshire. How it impacted and imprinted itself on her. As Sage herself expressed so clearly when asked by Pop, who asked the question, that after this near-death experience, how is it for you, what lesson have you drawn from it, how has it changed you - because for God's sake it must have - she said she didn't know, because she wasn't really there for most of it. She was sleeping.
Time, perhaps, may be the only thing that draws it out. The lesson, the healing, the answer to such a question. Time and life have a way of doing that, as both just go on, unequivocally.
Sage shared the following article she wrote for her Journalism class, back in February. The professor read the part in bold out loud to the class, an informal award of kudos, apparently, when such a thing is done. As in, this is really good, this needs to be shared and exemplified. The answer to "how is Sage" perhaps is in this, her own writing and thoughts.....You be the judge.
"The viewing audience worldwide for the World Cup was 700 million. The viewing audience in the US alone for the Super Bowl last year was 106 million.
Why is the Super Bowl such a big deal? In a way, it seems to recall the primitive days of our earlier ancestors — men using force to get what they want.
But maybe that is why it is so exciting to watch. The Gladiator aspect of the game — two teams physically duking it out — brings out our bloodthirsty, frenzied side. It’s action-packed with a side of danger, guaranteed to ramp up the adrenaline and testosterone.
A study by Scientific American shows that watching your team win boosts testosterone, while the fans of the losing team have their testosterone levels decreased. This plays into the notion of social domination and competitiveness that has ensured our species survival — it’s survival of the fittest at its finest.
Perhaps we are biologically prone to become somewhat addicted to these exhilarating and dangerous sports. After all, nobody watches chess for the excitement.
Physicality’s aside, one has to wonder at the ethics of spending 2.5 million dollars on a 30-second ad, according to CBS. The most watched ad last year was the Betty White Snickers ad, which currently has 2,301,481 views on YouTube.
I admit I enjoy watching the Super Bowl ads as much as the next person, but I don’t think that is adequate justification for indulging in the pomp and circumstance of the Super Bowl. And then there’s all the money spent on the halftime show.
America is a land where we do everything big — big cars, big houses, and big sporting events. But while half the country is going big, the other half is going hungry.
What if the NFL used some of the millions of dollars the Super Bowl generated to promote sports in disadvantaged neighborhoods? I would feel a lot better about watching the Super Bowl if they make even a small effort to help their less fortunate viewers using proceeds from their Super Bowl fortune.
All in all, despite its problems, the Super Bowl is something we do together as a nation. It's something that unifies us. At the same time on the same day a third of our country sits down and watches the Super Bowl — a sporting event that has, arguably, overtaken the World Series. Regardless of your opinion of the event you have to agree that in today's world unity is something we all need to strive for."
There is still so much to say, to share, to express, but for now, let us leave it at this. If you are still out there, still following, still wondering, send a thought, and I will continue to post. Promise. Really really, and not in five months' time. An update upon Sage's return for the summer, maybe even get her to blog when she is back from school. Know that I keep all of you, always and forever, close to my heart, in my words and prayer of gratitude and thanks. And I will leave you, for now, with this image from several months ago, when I took Sage back to Guilford. We got there and it was cold with a biting wind. And then it started to snow! the first day of classes, so I got stuck for a day. But then the storm traveled on, the sun came out and everything was clear. Classes started, students arrived, and the rhythm of a college semester began again.
"The sun is brilliant, achingly so as it picks up the life of the snow that lays about, covered under a layer of glittery ice like frosting on a cake gone brittle. It makes the sky so blue. A blue that is beyond this moment and time. Light years that have travelled to this moment. Of pause. Expectancy. Waiting.
Slowly they begin to emerge. Movement begins. Figures emerge from the buildings, holding the last bite of a hurried breakfast, or vestiges of sleep still upon them. Books in backpacks. Jackets tucked up against the biting cold that seems to want to play and remind us how alive we really can be.
It's time to go, I know, and yet I have to pause, for just a lingering moment, in the sunshine, behind the slant of the pillar and brick building that holds so much love. Standing in the sun, against this wall brought forth by human hands, I give thanks yet again to someone long ago who had a vision.
It's time to go and yet I know that she will be here, somewhere, down the walk, on her way to class. I know her walk so well, the gait, gaze always forward, hands tucked in against the cold. More figures spring onto the walks as the time draws nearer to the hour. Where is she? Will she be alright? Is this really happening? for the sun and sky seem so beautiful and surreal.
And then I see her. Almost miss her in looking but the gait, the bounce and the hair, always the hair, is unmistakable.
Even from this distance, she is calm. Serene. Completely in charge of the moment.
The experience of walking to class is palpable, a memory of my own and anyone who feels in that morning sun, walking across campus, that anything is possible.
The snow sparkles. Off she goes. Down the walk, into the sun. A moment like no other. I only say out loud, I love you Sage.
Does she hear it on the wind?
I can tell that she is happy. She turns. Into the sun. Out of the patch. Off we go."
Peace and blessings and much love upon you and yours, your day and days.
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