learning to pray

when i was a little girl.
i learned what it meant
to pray.

photo credit: groovycorner.blogspot.com

in sunday school.
we folded our hands.
and bowed our heads.
and tried not to let our eyes
sneak a peak.
to see if
anyone was cheating.

i remember feeling cramped.
feeling confined.
by the rules.


but.
my mom -- my dad -- my nana
my papa.
taught me to pray.

and it wasn't about rules.
it was apart of 
everyday.
in the fluidity of the moments.
simple.
yet complex.
because it was important.

and even when i was young.
so young.
i knew
something i could not see
was happening.
something within me stirred.
ever so gently.

but as i grew.
and walked on my way out into the wide 
wide world.
i begin to see...

to see many things.
i began to experience truth...
truth that seemed to be 
outside the confines of what i understood
to be god.

so i decided to forget...
to forget how to prayer.

because it could not be
that important.
especially if there were
rules.
and divisions.

a few years went by.
as they seem to do,

i remember the first time.
in a mosque.
standing next to my friend.
our heads covered
with brightly colored scarfs.
we stood in perfect rows.
and together
with every woman present
we rocked.
...got to our knees
...pressed our foreheads into the rough carpet
...paused.
...slowly rose to our feet


i was awkward.
my friend's hand
guided my movement.
she didn't laugh.
she only smiled.


then repeat.
we rocked.
...our knees
...forehead down
...paused.
...to our feet


three times.

in the middle
of the moment i recognized something.
this praying
it was apart of everyday.
in the fluidity of the moments.
it was simple.
yet complex.
because it was important
and 
do you know?
something i could not see
was happening.
something within me stirred.
ever so gently.

and time passed.
as it seems to have the habit of doing.

just yesterday. my friend.
asked me if i would go to
temple with her

to pray. for something very important
that would soon happen to her.
"have you been to a temple?
do you know how to pray?"

i was not
entirely sure how to answer.


she interpreted by pause.
"i will teach you."
she said.


so on a sunny, spring saturday.
we made our way to
Dongwasa Temple.
famous in this area.

as we approached temple's door,
we removed our shoes
at the entrance.

the marble floor was cool
on the feet.
three small bows
with our hands together
in the center of the chest.
familiar to a namaste greeting in
yoga practice.


my friend
took my arm
guided me to stand next to her.
whispering,
she told me to follow her.
...we got to our knees
...we placed our hands palm down
...we turned our palms up
...and raised them toward the sky
...paused.
...slowly rose to our feet


repeat.
three times.

do you know?
i recognized something.
this praying.
the fluidity. the simplicity.
yet complex.
because it was important
and 
do you know?
something i could not see
was happening.
something within me stirred.
ever so gently.

and my soul told me.
you know this.
mom -- dad -- nana
your papa.
the mosque.
taught you this
long ago.
so long ago.


but this time?
the rhythm.
the repetition.
the movement.
made space within me
and i felt free. 


so very very
free.

three different religions.
history of divisions.
but i can't help wonder at
the similarities.

to say they are the same.
is to diminish
what is.
and what isn't.

 

and who likes it when everything looks
the same.

but maybe.
just maybe we aren't so different
as we might think.

and i might not think
i want it
or even need it.

but isn't that what friends are for?
to remind us?
to teach us?
to point us toward the light?

it's a journey.
and sometimes it uncomfortable.
some days i
won't think it's important.

but some days
maybe i will feel that
something within me stirring...
ever so gently.

after all
i am learning.

learning to pray.

young friend

i got a great reminder.

today.
in my inbox.
from my friend.


a few years
set themselves between us.
but time...
[as mary oliver teaches me daily]
its just another idea.


whenever i am with this friend.
or get to read
a few of her words
on my computer screen i am reminded
why
it is so important to have
friends in different
seasons of life.


she reminds me.
about what it means to be sixteen
heading to twenty-three.

and even though i think i 
tell myself everyday...
sometimes coming from my 
friend
in the middle of her teens.
i am caused to pause
in a new way.
by the wisdom
that her words hold.


natalie, explore! explore! explore!
stay young and enjoy the ride.
life moves fast.

yes friend you are so right.
and i will.
explore,
stay young,

 and enjoy.

small and pink.

so today.

i was sitting in one of my favorite morning places. 

sipping coffee. pen [pilot 0.38, green, yes i love pens] in hand.

i like this particular spot 

because the windows are floor to ceiling. 

the street is busy. 

and full. 

with moms and children. 

solo elderly men strolling, hands clasped behind their backs. 

and the streets are lined with vendors.

life is all around. 

in constant motion. 

and i like to take a moment to be an observer. 

just for a few moments...of the life all around.

this morning. 

as i sipped, penned and watched, 

i observed a woman, who

for more than an hour, 

set up her clothing stall right on the street. 

in my perfect view. 

everything came out of her well-used car.

the tent. 

the stands to set the clothes. 

the hanging racks. 

then each stack of clothing.

she was meticulous in arranging each item. 

socks. tights. hats. scarfs. 

boots. sweaters. jumpers. 

dresses. vests. 

all small clothing. 

for kids.

but, i must tell you.

there was one item. 

it caught my eye.

the woman, held it up, shook it out 

before she carefully placed it on the table.

i couldn’t stop looking…

and i knew that it had to come home with me.

it was small. and it was pink. and it was a tutu.

i love a little girl in a tutu.

especially a small.pink.tutu.

after negotiating a price

with the lovely woman of the stand

the tutu was in my hands. 

coming home with me. 

and as i write

i am wrapping the small.pink.tutu. to 

send home to one little girl

who i know will wear it quite splendidly.

i hope she will twirl.

and dance.

and gaze at her imagine in the mirror.

because when you wear

a small.pink.tutu.

that precisely what 

one must do.

 

until next tutu spotting.

the earth reminded me.

this morning.

i was talking to my roommate.

about how spring is on its way.

its nearly march, she exclaimed.

spring is. right. around the corner.

but sometimes i forget.

sometimes i forget.

to just be

right where i am.

and sometimes i need 

a reminder.

as i stepped out of the gypsy den [the apartment]...

the whiteness made me catch my breath.

  

snow. was. everywhere.

a warm flow of energy trickled through me

beginning in my neck,

ending in my toes.

the snow.

it must had begun falling

since the morning's earliest hours.

with Regina Speckor as my morning soundtrack,

i stepped out into the street.

to become apart of it all.

my roommate called to me from the door,

"happy valentines day nat!"

men and women strolling one by one

or with a companion,

under plaid umbrellas

decorated the streets of my neighborhood.

snow clung to pine branches.

and it knew it was beautiful.

as i walked.

the earth reminded me.

and was busy surrounding me with

small white beauties to keep me company as i walked.

remember where you are.

the earth whispered.

and love where you are. in this moment.

 

so today, on this day of love and hearts.

i am reminded.

it is winter.

and i wonder if you can feel reminded...

to love where you are at.

in this exact moment.

because right now is wonderful.

but sometimes we need a reminder.

to be here.

just here.

and maybe we will learn:

here

is the very best place to be.

  

with a full heart,

and lots of love,

happy valentines day.

 

meanwhile the world goes on.

i was reminded.
this morning by talking to a friend
of an important, yet simple truth of life.

this friend is a gallant woman.
she faces the world with grace.
and eagerness.
desiring to learn and breath it all in.
her artistic and creative being 
is unassuming and inquisitive.

and my friend, she has had
her share of heartache and pain.
so deep and penetrating
she has wondered where the light is ---

the past few weeks, we have exchanged
the hilarity of emails about 
dreams and future,
men and crushes, 
wondering how an old soul
can live properly in all one's 
22-ness.

yet this winter. for me.
time has passed.
slowly.
with its share of loneliness and soul-ache
i did not know why i was here
and i have wondered where the light was ---


but today, i was reminded.
of this one simple truth.
that is easy to forget.


life.
it goes on.
it always does.

as the weepies,
the beetles,
and mary oliver
have penned so truthfully and dynamically,

our lives.
they spin on.

pain is real.
heartache torments us.
we wonder if the morning will ever come.


yet everyday the sun rises. 
and the moon greets the dusk.
spinning. spinning. spinning.
and we, whether we realize it or not...
we are always moving.


i am reminded how my life is one
note in the great melody that stirs the earth.


i am moving.
and i am many.

early spring.

late summer.

sometimes

the road

looks different.

early spring.

summer.

"meanwhile the world turns on."

it was yesterday.

just yesterday.

i was sitting in the front seat of my boss' car.

on the highway.

in traffic.

somewhere in the middle of daegu city.

 

my boss, mrs. lee

speaks very little english.

i even less korean.

a great combination.

mrs. lee's two grown daughters

were crowded in the backseat next to

lumps of teaching supplies and winter coats.

the sun shone in through the front window

warming my stomach and throat with its insistent beams.

then it happened.

my boss...began...

to sing.

"i havvvve a drrrreeeaaaam. a soooong to siiiing"

i hestitiated.

unsure of just what exactly was taking place.

in the next moment, when the backseat daughters

chimmed in with harmony, i knew.

i knew this experience,

this whole experience...

was unlike any other i would ever have.

and i was grateful.

so grateful,

that i joined in for the following song

a rendition of sound of music, 

'do re mi'.

because not everyone get to sing

classics with their boss.

with the sun shinning.

on a wednesday afternoon.

creating. for sarah

 sometimes there is this rustling. this stirring within me that will not quite quiet down. no matter how hard i try to insist that it should. the desire to create.

to create

something beautiful.

it was my friend sarah's birthday.

and i wanted to give her something special.

create.for.her.

one time we were walking and i was wearing a headband that i had knitted. she admired it.

since sarah is very talented with her hands, i took the compliment.

maybe, said sarah, you will make something for me.

i will wear anything you make natalie.

i started with a scane of green yarn.

one tree button.

some size 10 round bamboo needles.

the weepies.

some scrape yarn.

and i got started.

 

it took many frustrated attempts. i tried to follow varying patterns online, but nothing was turning out like i desired. 

i tried this and that. then i tried it again. then something new. and once again. but finally something started to work. and i just let the needles lead.

sometimes it's easier like that.

 

i have to always remind myself.

unfortunately.

that it is about the process.

because it is in the process that we learn.

things that we might never have known before.

for some it comes easily. 

this creating thing.

for others it does not.

i lack confidence.

but i shouldn't have.

because i loved the green headband.

and the burgondy flower made from scrapes.

and the tree button.

 

and so did sarah. 

color in a coke bottle.

sometimes the color around me is overwhelming. 

it beckons be to stop.

to take a moment.

and be apart of the color.

sometimes i have my camera.

sometimes i don't.

these moments just happen. and as much as i want to plan them and force them to happen. i can't. they come and go as they like.

it is my work. to learn how to be present to them.

and to actually...stop.
and see the color.

in a junkyard. on a wednesday night. amongst the coke bottles. and the favorite korean beverage: hite beer.

where do you see the color today?

i made a birthday wish.

on my 23rd year.

something to mark the day.

something to mark the year.

a desire for the future.

that could not be wished without my past.

i suck in the air, willing it to fill my lungs as it has done

so rhythmically and without failing for my entire life.

i held it one brief moment as i whispered my wish 

to the hands of fate.

and...

now the world holds the wish.