Susan Senator

‘Scuse me, while I kiss the sky.
–Jimi Hendrix

I woke up to pink and lavender sky. I threw on my heaviest sweater and Ned’s socks and went down to enjoy this gift. That is how it felt. I actually smiled at the snowbound yard, marveled at the black fingers of the rhododendron leaves. I noticed for the first time, how the leafless branches act as tiny frames for the lovely sky; how clever Mother Nature is. This is the first winter I’ve ever experienced that did not level me. I have not really minded the cold or the frozen earth — and it has been bitter cold. I have been maintaining my balance, which is ever important to a Libra.

I don’t really know how it has all stayed so well-aligned for me. In the fall, I made a conscious decision to always have a book going (to read); to have several playdates a week with my friends; to take at least one dance class; and to always have a writing project in my head. I made room for teaching, and have had my heart stretched to fit in the Baby Bellies. And into that pocket I have added weekly dates with Ned; several playdates a week for Nat and Ben; and a sprinkling of having Max’s friends here, particularly his very dear girlfriend, who stays for dinnner on a regular basis.

Is regularity the determinant of pleasure for me? I didn’t think that could be the case. I have always thought of myself as impulsive and spontaneous. And yet, I have learned recently that my impulses can get me into trouble. My spontaneity, on the other hand, can lead to an exciting new plan. There is a difference. I think spontaneity springs from the head, a new idea based on the current surroundings and conditions, whereas impulse springs more from the belly, where there are cravings that spring up from the swampy innards. I am learning to recognize the difference within myself, to distinguish one from the other, the self-improving vs. the self-defeating.

Balance, to me, not only means having regularity and consistency in the present and local future (e.g., the future of the coming week); it also is about having a long-term goal, too. Book projects allow me to have a long-term goal, but that is not enough. The muse is not always with me (that bitch) so I can’t depend on that. And so lately I have come up with other long-term goals, such as some kind of more traditional work (that was what was behind applying to Anthropologie for a job. But that was probably a bit too impulsive a move, not well thought out. In hindsight, I don’t know if I would have enjoyed turning my hobby of being in a dreamworld among beautiful clothes into a job of prescribed hours, having to sell those clothes to people other than my friends and me. Sour grapes? Or turning sour grapes into wine? You decide.)

Last night I gave a talk at a community college, as a kick-off to a series of trainings the staff there has developed for professionals and students going into autism education. It was a very enjoyable evening, with lots of great conversations about how to bridge the gap between parents and special educators; how to bring parents more to the table in terms of their expertise on their children, and how to develop more trust between the two groups. It was one of those kinds of evenings where so many people were on the same page, you couldn’t help but feel that positive change is afoot. We talked afterwards about my coming back, maybe even to teach there. I drove home feeling like I was floating on air. That kind of teaching may just be my long-term goal. We shall see.

Meanwhile, a little bit of total immersion in the purple and gold haze of the present: It is called Andalusian Vision, and it is a Pharaonics of Egypt design. I had picked the very one out, in pink and silver, months ago, and did not buy it. But this one is now available in my size from my swapmeet site, and in a color combo I do not already own, that matches the intensity of my daybreak sky.