A Tree as Lovely as a Poem

This past weekend, my Grandfather moved into his new house. The first thing I noticed about the new house was the tree in the front yard. "That looks like a climbing tree," I thought to myself. "Can I climb your tree?" I asked my grandfather. "As long as you don't break any limbs" (mine or the trees?). My Dad assisted and documented the adventure. I tried another tree in the backyard, but the bark was rougher and I was in shorts, and after I started bleeding, I decided to discontinue the attempt for the time being. Next time, pants, and...the tree!

Dad ("i've been climbing trees since before you were born") couldn't resist taking a turn!

Senseless

Senseless

I have a hard time putting things into boxes.

When I move I have full garbage bags labeled DO NOT THROW AWAY.

I have as hard a time with mental boxes-->categories-->gestalts.

I can put dog in a small furry animal that barks box,

but what can I do with 16 yr old kills my 28 yr old Syrian student, Jamal?

28- Not old enough to have been his father, but at least a brother

an uncle a mentor a teacher if life made sense

If 57 choices were made that weren't

and 3 that were, weren't.

I hope he gets tried as an adult

because I'm trying to believe

children are too innocent to kill

or die.

God, it's true

I just realized

I have a stuffed camel called Jamal.

Clarence, my friend stationed in Iraq, sent me 3 yrs ago.

Now Clarence's son is in Iraq

training Iraqi soldiers

how not to get killed.

The son's name is Tony. He's 29.

The killer's name is Eric.

He is somebody's son,

probably somebody's brother,

maybe somebody's nephewunclecousin friend student

He's a child.

I have 2 stuffed camels, Jamal,

and one from Camel Rock Casino on Tesuque Pueblo,

where I met Clarence,

who taught me how to say I love you

in Tewa,

where I learned that I can understand

that I need to understand

what I don't understand

that I can't understand.

Is there a word for this plurality

in Tewa?

in English?
in Arabic?

Feline Visitor

We had a visitor today. Kristin called her Muffin and Anth seemed quite attached, but I think she already has a home-- seems pretty taken care of and domesticated. Well, we had fun playing with her for a little bit anyways. I made an improvised cat toy out of a card board strip (a great success). She also hunted down a fly and a moth. She seems young, as she doesn't quite fit into her paws yet. She had a bushy tail like a raccoon.

Remembering Jamal Mouzaffar

Yesterday evening, I went for a walk to clear my head...or to look for a sign to make sense of all this. I saw flowers growing in weeds, I saw new leaves growing from a lightning charred tree. I tried to run, but couldn't run fast enough. I sat in the garden. I searched for some comparison, something that would give me a reason. I couldn't find any. I spent some time writing in my Nature journal that i had put away back in the beginning of June. I wanted to feel connected to the Earth.

Inshallah
God Willing
like we don't have
a choice
Because we really don't
It means
I want the best
for you and yours
but have no way to guarantee it
Inshallah
God willing
by and by
Vaya con Dios
We all have a way to say it
but how can we make sense
of your death?
We're not supposed to
but God willing
one day we'll see
clearly
face
to
face
Go with God, Jamal
We don't have a choice
in this life
when we come and go
but God willing
I will see you again habibi
dear one
friend

----

When I returned home, I found a passage in one of my books of poetry by Rumi that struck me as particularly relevant. I'm sharing it with you here:

On the day I die, when I'm being carried
toward the grave, don't weep. Don't say,

He's gone! He's gone. Death has nothing
to do with going away. The sun sets and

the moon sets, but they're not gone.
Death is a coming together. The tomb

looks like a prison, but it's really
release into union. The human seed goes

down in the ground like a bucket into
the well where Joseph is. It grows and

comes up full of some unimagined beauty.
Your mouth closes here and immediately

opens with a shout of joy there.

~mevlana jelaluddin rumi - 13th century

In Memory of Jamal Mouzaffar

-Article about the shooting-

I heard on the radio first thing this morning that one of my students had been shot and killed. Jamal Mouzaffar was in my Microsoft PowerPoint class, and had taken two other classes with Ron. He was signed up to take Publisher with me in September. Jamal was here from Syria for medical treatment. He had a prosthetic leg that was getting some adjustments. He had completed some study at the university back home in Journalism, and was planning to complete it on his return in a few weeks. The radio said he was opening his Uncle's deli, a gunman demanded money, Jamal complied, but he was shot anyways. It is such a terrible loss. And such irony that really doesn't give any comfort right now- he came to this country TO GET BETTER, and this is what happens. My heart goes out to his family right now, both here and back in Syria. I called the only number I had, which was at Jamal's apartment, and my throat caught when I heard his voice on the answering machine. I can't make sense of this. He always had a smile, he was so kind, so friendly, so curious, so willing to learn. Sometimes the world doesn't make sense. Rest in peace, Jamal, I hope wherever you are is better than this world where such things can happen.

Sinking a Coconut in the Monogahela

Yes, living in Pittsburgh is always an adventure. As a completion of the tasks left to my friend Vijay after his Hindu house blessing ceremony, I assisted in the sinking of a coconut in the river. After his Mom blessed the house, it was left to Vijay to properly dispose of the holy objects left over. He had to pour the Hanuman holy water on a tree, give the coins to a child, and sink the coconut in a river. It was mid evening and the sun was at that stage where the shadows are really playing off the ground. The foilage around the river seemed extra green, and the tide was moving pretty quickly. We (Vijay, Rachel, and I) first attempted to sink the coconut by putting it in paper bag with a rock. Having nothing to close the bag with, after throwing it out, the bag surfaced, and eventually the coconut broke free. The tide brought it close enough that I dragged it closer with a stick and Rachel picked it up. Vijay called his Mom, who advised him to crack it open and then it should sink. So we located another sizable rock, with which Vijay cracked open the coconut, submerged it in water until it had some inside of it, then tossed it out again. This time it sunk. Mission accomplished. It was a beautiful evening to be on the river, and there was some sense of nostalgia or history not my own; some tradition that I was allowed to become a part of, however briefly.

Possessed by Pigeons?

The pigeons are haunting me. That's all there is to it. Why, oh why, won't they leave me alone. It's been a long saga with pigeons. At times I have hated them ("rats with wings"), others I've been ambivalent or apathetic, more recently intrigued. I posted earlier of how I wasn't sure how to feel about the forced pigeon birth-control in Hollywood, of how I ordered a book about pigeons to research before I formulated an actual opinion. Well, since then, I have been encountering pigeons everywhere. Even on the murals of Pittsburgh. This mural was by Whole Foods in East Liberty. Why the pigeon has bling is beyond me, but it is a pigeon with gold chains and a diamond ring (You would think such accoutrements would weigh it down in flight).