I am thoroughly enjoying these three Labor Day weekend nights and days. Though the idea may be to celebrate the unions and a day of rest for workers, I seem to settle into three days of non-thought, and certainly little labor. The windows are open and I stayed in bed this morning listening to the birds sing and watching the sunlight shift in the sky.
The hose is running with precious, expensive water as I water deeply the trees, hoping this will be it before the rains come.
I have been reading a book by my friend Concha Delgado. I met her at the conference, so her book is not yet out and I hope it will be soon. She writes of her experience coming to this country as an immigrant and of how hard she overworked to overcome that "stigma," and how she then got sick and had to learn to "rest." I am taking the rest part to heart, and, as I say, am slowing way down.
We celebrated a lovely day yesterday in Los Gatos with Jeff and Jan, and Chris and Frieda, and even traffic was easy and light. It seems word is out on the bay bridge closure and people are staying home which I definitely plan to do these next two days.
I read of Senator Craig and his toe-tapping which seems to be more wide-spread than many of us realize, and that may be because we really don't care. I do wonder why those who are most vocal against such behavior are often the ones engaged in it. I can't imagine the split in personality that must be required to declaim publicly who, privately you are. That is scary to me, so little acceptance, continuity, and unity in a person.
I give a paragraph from Diane Ackerman's book, An Alchemy of Mind. Diane Ackerman is always worth reading in totality but here is an excerpt on that marvel with which each one of us is graced, the brain.
"Imagine the brain, that shiny mound of being, that mouse-gray parliament of cells, that dream factory, that petit tyrant inside a ball of bone, that huddle of neurons calling all the plays, that little everywhere, that fickle pleasuredrome, that wrinkled wardrobe of selves stuffed into the skull like too many clothes into a gym bag. The neocortex has ridges, valleys, and folds because the brain kept remodeling itself though space was tight. We take for granted the ridiculous-sounding yet undeniable fact that each person carries around atop the body a complete universe in which trillions of sensations, thoughts and desires stream. They mix privately, silently, while agitating on many levels, some of which we're not aware of, thank heavens. If we needed to remember how to work the bellows of the lungs or the writhing python of digestion, we'd be swamped by formed and forming memories, and there'd be no time left for buying cute socks. My brain likes cute socks. But it also likes kisses. And asparagus. And watching boat-tailed grackles. And biking. And drinking Japanese green tea in a rose garden. There's the nub of it - the brain is personality's whereabouts. It's also a stern warden, and, at times, a self-tormenter. It's where catchy tunes snag, and cravings keep tugging. Shaped a little like a loaf of French country bread, our brain is a crowded chemistry lab, bustling with nonstop neural conversations. It's also an impersonal landscape where minute bolts of lightning prowl and strike. A hall of mirrors, it can contemplate existentialism, the delicate hooves of a goat, and its own birth and death in a matter of seconds. It's blunt as a skunk, and a real gossip-hound, but also voluptuous, clever, playful, and forgiving."
- Diane Ackerman - from An Alchemy of Mind
Well, there's a hunk of stuff to not think about today or tomorrow. Have fun in these waning days of summer sun.