A whiff of fighting spirit

It is that time of year that I dread the most. November. 

I have taken out from the back of our closet some fairy lights and surrounded the bronze Buddha head, shells, and two glass candle holders on the windowsill with them. Giui comments that it is a bit early for Christmas. 

It really doesn't matter; any tactic to starve off the winter blues is fine with me.

Sommer Wehmut / Summer Melancholy

Leaves drop in silence 
Winter boots stomp upon them 
Time sweeps all away.

Why not?

It started as a bet. My boss dared me to dye my hair bright red, like Leeloo in the movie "The 5th Element". One of my heroes. She, more than Bruce Willis' character, draws me back over and over again to see the movie. 

Of course, I cannot be Leeloo, the beautiful young alien who just arrived on Earth. That isn't my intent. My main concern is that if I do the dare, I do not want to be the brunt of a public joke. To do such a radical act could be a breach of contract with myself. For decades, all I have ever wanted was to be me inside and out. 

Yet, over the last few years, when I have travelled to the east coast of the States, Dubai, and Singapore, I have seen many women stemming the tides of time: older women trying to look younger. All of the plastic surgery, hair extensions, facial peelings, botox, hair dyes, and make-up seem, in my eyes, to etch away the life experience engravings from their faces. I question why they spend so much money and effort to slow down the inevitable. 30-year-olds try to look in their 20s, 40- year-olds 30, 50-year-olds 40, etc. Doesn't all that stretching, taping, and tucking masquerade the beauty of who they are evolving into? What does that feel like?

So, as an experiment, I take the dare. The transformation is an enjoyable experience. Two hours of creating a "before and after." My young hairdresser has the same hair tone. She has worn it for four years now. She says it has become who she is when she looks in the mirror. It has become a part of her identity.

 
It has been fun to see the reactions from colleagues and friends. They understand it is a lark. But, it is the loving looks in the eyes of my family that make this experiment worth the discomfort of being an older Leeloo for a few weeks. 

Even now, only a week into this transformation, I have learnt a valuable lesson. Looking in the mirror at who I am today, I do not want to see who I wanted to be back then or never was. Instead, I want to see who I am today, naked and vulnerable, being one day closer to becoming old. It is a gift... time to age.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)  

A symptom of old age

Full moon shines brightly
In the middle of the night
I get up to pee.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)  

Winter solstice approaching

Outside our living room

Window darkness prevails.

The clock ticks away the dawn

That won’t shine or shimmer

Except on the dusty pages

Of a farmer’s almanac. 

Made a big mistake

Look... cooking lessons
Delightfully delicious.
My fridge is empty!

Simple joys

A new lemon press

Steel and muscle together

A vitamin shock.

Photo by CA Creative on Unsplash

Waiting for Giui to get his takeout coffee

Sing angels from high 
Back resting on the church wall

Drinking in the sun.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)  

Weirdly and tenderly happy for small wins

Daughter came in last
In a race she ran alone
Could not be more proud.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)  

Trying to stay calm

A daddy longlegs
Slipping on a flat surface
Uggh, lands at my feet.

Hibernation instinct

All of a sudden
Morning is darkness and tea
I am here again.

After all that training

I'm back from Izmir
Nature girl is in a race
We cheer her onward.

The glow of anticipation

Ümran's going home
Smiles and good food of Izmir
Suitcases are full.

Photo by T. Selin Erkan on Unsplash

A quiet realisation

I wake in the dark
Now need to turn on the lights
Summer disappears.

Saturday morning in Toronto

Joggers passing by
Red canoe on top of car
Mashed avo toast. 

Encounter

We round a corner of the street on a family joke. I'm smiling a big 'life is wonderful' smile, and I nearly collide with a man wearing a dark grey suit and black starring eyes. I connect to his eyes and fall into a pit of fear and hatred. His gaze whips my head to the side, severing our connection.

A microsecond later, my daughter cries in disgust; the man spit on her and my back in passing. We stop and assess the situation. Trying to come to terms with what just happened. I regret that eye contact. 

A policeman comes towards us, and another civilian comes up from behind, in the direction the man who spit on us was walking. The guy shouts to the policeman, "He pulled out two knives. He just reached into his bag and took out these two motherfuxxing knives!" The policeman asks, "Was he dressed in grey?" The guy confirms this. The policeman says they have everything in control. So the guy escorts us for some time up the road as we continue our way, mumbling the whole time, "two motherfuxxing knives."

I am not quite sure what to think. An hour later, and still numb.

(Written during our trip to Montreal in August.)

The beginning of the end of summer

Street cleaner swooshing
At four this morning
Mixing with birdsong. 

Early morning in Ste. Lucie

Sun over treetops
Floors creak while getting my tea
Sipping and smiling.

In the middle of nature

Ann's place in nature
Squirrels eating clothes on clothesline
Damm nasty creatures.

(Written during our trip to Montreal in August.)

Home away from home

Ann and David's place up in Ste. Lucie is the most remarkable place. A wooden structure built with logs. It took five years for the logs to settle into their rock foundation. Gold winters and hot summers temper the wood. The wood fibres shrink and expand in slow motion. The massive structure shifts in micro-movements until all the pieces merge together as one. Home.

I feel about this house like I did about Pat and Dave's place. A sanctuary that exists within nature. A place where there was an ever-changing sea landscape and seasong rolling off the reefs and pounding off the cliffside. The bright yellow chairs in the pool area, with their seats made of slung canvas, supported our backs so perfectly. The children swam, and we would read, glancing up occasionally to witness their looklook antics.

There were the sunsets on the terrace. The swimming under the stars before going to bed. All accompanied by bats flying and the serenade of tree frogs. 

At Ann's, it is less wild, but there is a sense of embracing wilderness. I can hear the sound of the wind dancing with the trees. There is birdsong in the early morning, but later on, there will be less song and more fluttering and scavaging for their young chicks. 

David makes creaks with the stairs as he comes down to let Lucie out. Then he goes up to change for his run through the woods. Once he leaves, there is nothing left but the stillness of the family sleeping and the swaying of the greens outside the open windows. There it is... a sigh from Lucie dreaming as she sleeps next to me. 

(Written during our trip to Montreal in August.)