'Sup Sunday (yet again a day late)

But, you know that's okay since it's a long weekend and we all know that Sunday is the last day of the weekend.

So, what's been up with me? I read a lovely, haunting book on Sunday. I ate something that didn't sit well in my stomach, so I lay in bed for awhile and decided to read. And I got so wrapped up in the story that I just keep reading, even after my stomach stopped hurting, until I had read the entire book. The book is Forgotten Country by Catherine Chung (Riverhead Books, Penguin (c) 2012). It tells the story of a Korean family through the eyes of a Korean-American daughter/granddaughter. There are stark images of devastating loss and brutality, as well as casual cruelty, but also deep devotion and beauty in the book. For me the novel explored the meaning of duty and family, and all the levels of loyalty we navigate - to ourselves, those who died for us, those who lived for us.

Here are two quotes that give you a flavor of the text:

"I began to understand that night that my parents could not protect me, and that I could lever let them know that I knew this.  Still, it was a strangely beautiful night, one in which I felt particularly close to my family, grateful to have them, relieved to be intact." Page 119.

"'I think joy can stop time," my father said. 'I think joy can do the trick.' Satisfied with this answer, he nodded his head, lowered himself back down, and closed his eyes again.
"I turned to look at him, my father half sunken in the grass, the blades pushing up around him. The sun in his eyes, the light all over him, and the grass, and the arms of the trees meeting overhead. He was smiling with his eyes closed, pleased with his answer, pleased with himself. I felt the weight of it upon my chest. Yes, I thought. Joy can stop time with the force of its insistent, incomprehensible weight." Page 163.

I also went through another couple of disks of Carolyn Myss' Language of Archetypes. I listened to the rest of the masculine and feminine families, the spiritual family, the wisdom family, the healer family and the creative family. The funny thing is, we watched some stand up comedy online with the boylios and saw a bit of Paula Poundstone talking about poptarts - and I kept thinking how much she sounded like Carolyn Myss ...

I really liked a particular portion of the masculine family, which I will attempt to transcribe for Wednesday's Words of Wisdom.

Well, I really need to sleep, so I am going to end this somewhat abruptly. Hoping all who read this are well and whole.

'Sup Sunday? May 13, 2012, Mother's Day

I'm planning this to be a weekly thing, a place to check in on my week and to put my turtle goals in writing.
It's been a good week and day. I had a wonderfully supportive and nuturing women's support group Tuesday, exploring the roles we try to fill, even when they don't fit us. I enjoyed listening to the beginning of a great audio series about the contemplative/mystical tradition in Christianity and apparently my tendency toward hearing spiritual voices and internal promptings (which are rather like an body-based GPS system - they like to tell me where to go and I often feel physically pulled or drawn like a magnet in a particular direction) makes me a mystic. Who knew?
I've spent mama's day with my fam--the boylios and dev this morning, my sis and bro this afternoon, my sweetie right now. He made me honey vanilla ice cream. I'm trying to keep the goodness and sweetness of being together in my heart, rather than the tension.
I always miss my mom on this day, even though we had a difficult relationship. I have a strong sense of mom's continued existence, of her presence in our lives, even though my rational self cannot explain how she could continue to be after her body is gone. Perhaps it is simply a remnant of my Mormon upbringing, but I cannot deny that I have felt her with me, even speaking to me, after she left the waking world. There is a part of me who misses the surety of my young adulthood - of "knowing this is true." I don't have that surety any longer but my mother has become one of my "guides." And I think I feel more comfortable now in the space of "I don't know" than I did on the realm of firm testimonies. Hmmm.
So, my turtle step for this week is to write one other weekly post.

Sweet turtle friends who live at my workplace.
The wooden ones are from my maternal grandmother, Alma.
The little enameled one is from Dr. C.