lost in transition

January 23, 2009

wow. has it actually been five weeks since i was here?

the last thirty days are a blur, beginning with the purchase of a hello kitty pink and yellow big girl bike for my daughter days before christmas, and ending with obama officially taking office tuesday. i cried over both events. time is moving so fast, and suddenly maya is nearing six and becoming this complicated, beautiful bundle of a person. not so suddenly – as our past confirms – an african american stepped into an enormous pair of shoes formerly occupied by white men only.

i am in awe, witnessing both. i am struck down evenly it seems by events existing on a global scale, and those that are tiny fragments of a daily life, lived. yesterday i cried in my living room with millions around the world as i watched history unfold. this morning i watched the rise and fall of my daughter’s chest as she slept next to me, her breath on my pillow, her eyes fluttering in a dream. i can’t discern between which feels bigger, more important, takes me out at the knees more efficiently.

this must be the middle ground, the place where we have dropped enough of ourselves to know that our tiny place in this world still allows us a front row seat to moments of enormous importance. likewise, the bend of maya’s wrist, the sound of a best friend’s laugh crossing an ocean to reach me, a box of love letters recently found that pull me like an intake of breath into moments of a younger life, remind me of the singularity of my one life lived. as i grow older i want to renounce the cliches of aging. but they hold truth, for this is intense, and layered, the blessings and curses of this mortal coil.

so in the tumble of it all, what gets let go of? 2008 is gone, 2009 arrived like a wished-for early spring. bush is out, obama is in (big, deep, collective sigh of relief). national self esteem and confidence is spider-web fragile compared to years of the posturing and half-truths and arrogance that have held us like anchor cable. is the loss, the letting go, bad? financially, yes: everyone i know is hurting financially. but for months and months – on bumper stickers, in windows, on winter lawns – have been the signs that so many are ready for an enormous, life-affirming change. for harmony, and fairness. for a sense that on the tiniest levels and the biggest, we may return to a simpler, more caring way of co-existing. return to balance.

hope and optimism swirl around my ankles like sea water; i want to hold my breath until some firecracker-blast-big proof shows us things are changing. i imagine for a moment that such change may mean a kinder, more humane existence. that instead of being lost in transition, something will be found. and that somehow, balanced as if on a wire strung between the world at large and the hundred million moments and decisions that make up the world i share with my daughter, i will stay at least precariously upright, and in some moments, even graceful.


4 Responses to “lost in transition”

  1. lisa Says:

    that was a lovely read, kl. i understand, commiserate, feel it to.

  2. June Says:

    Amazing. I am adding one more to the list of talents you have. Your words were moving and insightful and a prayer to begin my day. Much love, June

  3. Miya Says:

    beautiful words from a beautiful person.

  4. Gail Simmons Says:

    Thanks so much KL for painting such a lovely picture in my mind. I just reread the December blog and it still brings tears to my eyes although not quite as many as were shed this Jan. 20th throughout the day.
    Happy New Year and thanks for the photo of Maya
    at Christmas.
    Aloha nui,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: