Today, for a change..

Candles
by Carl Dennis

If on your grandmother's birthday you burn a candle
To honor her memory, you might think of burning an extra
To honor the memory of someone who never met her,
A man who may have come to the town she lived in
Looking for work and never found it.
Picture him taking a stroll one morning,
After a month of grief with the want ads,
To refresh himself in the park before moving on.
Suppose he notices on the gravel path the shards
Of a green glass bottle that your grandmother,
Then still a girl, will be destined to step on
When she wanders barefoot away from her school picnic
If he doesn't stoop down and scoop the mess up
With the want-ad section and carry it to a trash can.
For you to burn a candle for him
You needn't suppose the cut would be a deep one,
Just deep enough to keep her at home
The night of the hay ride when she meets Helen,
Who is soon to become her dearest friend,
Whose brother George, thirty years later,
Helps your grandfather with a loan so his shoe store
Doesn't go under in the Great Depression
And his son, your father, is able to stay in school
Where his love of learning is fanned into flames,
A love he labors, later, to kindle in you.
How grateful you are for your father's efforts
Is shown by the candles you've burned for him.
But today, for a change, why not a candle
For the man whose name is unknown to you?
Take a moment to wonder whether he died at home
With friends and family or alone on the road,
On the look-out for no one to sit at his bedside
And hold his hand, the very hand
It's time for you to imagine holding.

Today, for a change.. II

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/08/30/twins.stabbed.ap/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

If you read that story, light a candle in your mind for the child that lives. For the grandfather that held him as he bled, and the little sister that will not understand where all her brothers went.

Thanks to G.

Lately I've felt an increased sense of urgency about everything in life. Perhaps it has something to do with my ageing-related anxiety- this constant sense of running out of time, "How will I get it all done?" - so sacrifice the sleep, the sense of fun, the simple pleasure of a late night conversation. Get the work done, clean the house, do the laundry, work out, and after it there's a long list of 'important' things that need doing- Strangely (sadly?), a large part of that list is what would once have been FUN. When did I need to start making lists of movies and books to catch up on? When did I need to "find the time" for a long phone call?

Of course, I could attribute it to the current state of my work, or the many deadlines we've had lately. Or just the world in general- This life is so full of care, the standing and staring isn't appreciated anymore. The things I'd like to stare at are usually moving too fast anyway. And if you stand long enough, eventually you'd get run over/ arrested/ shot at/ have chunks torn off your limbs by a giant bird-eating spider. The horrible fate mostly depends on where you stand, but ultimately a horrible fate befalls those that stand anywhere.
Moving targets are usually harder to run over, arrest, etc.

Somewhere in this almost-perpetual rush, I came across a blog post by G., about how patience and complacence are probably equivalent, and are the scariest thing in the world. Once you're complacent, you're old. He LIKES the perpetual rush, the constant burning to see and do the big things- travel and read the "good" books and write things of deep impact, and hopes to be able to live like this all his life.

If you'd asked me ten minutes ago, I might have said the same things. However, G. is someone I choose to disagree with- I dislike him, his views, and most things about him, and will disagree with him just because its him.(I know, I'm a small, petty, intolerant person, but I like it that way!)

I began contradicting, just on principle (The principle being: "I hate him, everything he says is wrong"), and ended up with this-

The difference between patience and complacence- Choice. Patience is caring enough to stand back and wait, complacence is not giving a damn in the first place.

Somehow, a random thought intended to annoy ended up making me respect all the patient people around me so much more. Just the capacity to stand back and hold on- To run fast and hard for something, then stand back and wait for it to get away and come back on its own. Patience needs more courage, more grit and more will than the burning ambition that asks to travel the world and live the good life.

Thanks to G., I understand patience a little better. And the fact that in writing this, I have not been able to think of a single synonym that truly empathises with the meaning of the word only rubs it in deeper, somehow.
No one word to describe that unique combination of deep strength and silent hope that makes up patience- A rare trait, worth holding on to where I find it- and hope some of it rubs off on me :)

Life sucks, and then...?

Beginning on the (supposedly) typical third-year blues of a PhD, I've heard several stories of how to deal with things, and what comes next. Here's a listing, for whoever's interested.
(I guess it goes without saying that I'm sitting in the lab waiting for another experiment to not work.)

1. Alcohol- Works to precipitate RNA and drown your sorrows, both. However, neither of these effects is particularly long-lasting. The RNA will degrade, and you will wake up with a hangover.

2. Keep your head down, mouth shut, and plough through the work. D-uh, I work, the work doesn't. And if it worked, I wouldn't be blue in the first place (I think, since I am no longer sure of anything about my work anymore).

3. Pretend its not happening (PITH). I do this by pretending to be working on the less important aspects of my so-called life, such as looking at jobs for if/when I graduate, paying bills I should never have generated in the first place, and frowning at my computer periodically so it looks like I'm working.

4. PITH-II. Take a vacation- This works, I know. Except that the places I can afford I dont want to go/ have already gone, and I still can't afford the places I couldn't afford when I took vacations to the places I could afford. Oh, and reality just hits harder when I get back from the break.

5. ??????????? This one would definitely work. If only I knew what it was.

As to the "What comes after third year blues/ Does it get better" question, I've had two responses so far-

1. "Oh, don't worry, the third year really is the worst. You know, it feels like you work and work and nothing happens. Then all of a sudden everything falls into place, and its wonderful!"

2. "Third year blues give way to fourth year blues, which give way to fifth year blues. And then (hopefully), unlike me, you'll graduate."

Those were both fifth-year students speaking. After those responses, I didn't bother asking anyone who'd been around longer than that.

Thank god for girlfriends:)

There are some things that are just so purely woman that NO man can ever do. Regardless of how much he cares- He may be the man that changed your diapers and held you when you puked, or he may be the guy friend you hung out at the college canteen with, or the person who wants to spend his life with you. None of those things matter at some points- they just don't get it.
Having gone through the fights and the explanations and the wiles it takes to get them to understand, I've come to the conclusion that its not worth it. It takes a woman to do some things, and that's the bottom line.

So thank god for girlfriends- the people I can wake up at 6 am on Sunday morning with the panicked phone call- "What was I thinking?! I'm not ready to get married!!", and get a suitably satisfying reaction. If that same phone call had been made to a guy, he would probably have rolled over and gone back to sleep, knowing that I would return to my senses in an hour or so. A girlfriend will talk you through it, sympathise and worry and agonise with you, until you both decide you were being silly and nothing's wrong.

Girlfriends to shop with- NO man, no matter how much he loves you, will spend four hours walking through a store with you, admiring things you have no intention or money to buy.

And most of all, the point was driven home by the long contradictory conversation I had with R last night- Swimsuits and holidays, and her stories about frustration with a two year old baby and flinging chairs at walls, which in some way was supposed to convince me that marriage and motherhood are wonderful, desirable things every single person in the world should get into.

To quote her," No really, it can be so frustrating. You spend your entire morning scrubbing the house and cooking up things so that your baby gets used to new foods and gets a balanced meal. Then she refuses to eat everything you cooked, and when she finally does, she pukes it all over the floor you scrubbed an hour ago. And you spend every single day like that, no breaks since S is working so hard right now he doesn't even take Sundays off."

And according to her, is the most beautiful thing in the world, worth giving up all your dreams of exotic vacations and high-flying careers for.

Huh ?! It probably takes a mother to understand that one.