more energy than sunshine

clearly the only strategy for coping with i-abhor-china-itis is to warrior through it. this involves assuming responsibility for being here, in this marvelous world, in this marvelous time. actually, that is true for any time and place, red china blues or none. in any case, i am now cured and again happy being here. or, more precisely, happy to just be. or, even more precisely, just happy. i had such an outrageously fun weekend that there was barely time to sleep. sometimes my reserves of energy and spirit surprise even me. marveling at not being completely and utterly exhausted and still smiling on the bus to work this morning, i wondered why and how i sometimes have more energy than sunshine. i smiled a little less broadly as i realized i am off on another whirlwinded trip to america tomorrow. at least i've been upgraded to business class for the journey there. and it will be nice to see family, friends, lei feng (my immigrant cat who is leading a decadent lifestyle and getting fat in the beautiful country). i'm less excited about the work aspects of the trip (although that is the purpose for this travel).

a dear old friend was in town this weekend and i think we laughed continuously for two days. we also danced*, watched football, drank too many martinis, wandered around beijing, attended an opening party for a politically provocative modern art exhibit, over-caffeinated, shopped, threw peanuts recklessly about, reminisced, smiled at life, saw the sun rise, contemplated, made new friends, and laughed, laughed, laughed. it's wonderful to be with someone you have been close to and known for so long. we had last seen each other five years ago over a great meal in london, but connections of the enduring kind are so precious because you can simply and swiftly pick up without missing a beat whenever you cross paths. after two full but glorious long days and nights, he was off.

you would have thought that friday and saturday would have been enough, but last night i hosted a dinner party for 16 with some fantastic foodie friends. my talented friend taught us how to make pasta and pizza dough from scratch and we had an amazing feast of homemade pasta, goat cheese ravioli, pizza, onion tart, and then some. so sunday night was spent sitting outside in the evening quiet in the courtyard, drinking delicious wine, and enjoying some of the best carbs i've ever consumed.... it was dual-themed weekend: no cocktail left behind; no carb left behind. (and fear not, a lot of cheese was involved as well.) by the time everyone was leaving last night at midnight, and i was ready to collapse, i couldn't help but marvel at how fortunate i am to be in this very marvelous world at this very marvelous time. which confirms i am a warrior.

*noodle-danced even

pollution and perspective

i have a bad case of the red china blues. call it i-abhor-china-itis. sigh. i feel guilty even writing that. sometimes i envy the people i meet who simply fell in love with china and that's why they're here. although envy is not the right word. i marvel at their capacity to simply love this place. for it is not at all something i can understand. certainly not at the moment. my magical weekend in napa may have ruined me. since my return i seem unable to be excited about this place (even as i banter on about conversing with beijing and my needing to be here). the atrocious air quality this week isn't helping. i seriously want to just pack up and go somewhere gorgeous where i can breathe deeply, contemplate truths larger and more subtle than i'll ever comprehend, and attempt to write something truly beautiful. or provocative. or both. beautiful or provocative or both. maybe that can be my new mantra. perhaps all i need is a new mantra.

i will be packing up again in just a few days. for another whirlwinded trip to the land of the free and the home of the brave. perhaps that will suffice for now. i am impossibly impatient. (although i used to be worse, which i suppose would be intolerably impatient. impossibly is an improvement.)

given my current restlessness and inquietude, i am questioning everything. i found myself this afternoon recalling a conversation i had some time ago with a new acquaintance. he asked me how wrong it was to profit from china. (incidentally, he is doing so and prefaced the question by stating he had no intention of stopping.) i pointed out that his very framing of the question presumed that it was wrong. an interesting chat ensued. which, after some other experiences, lead to landslides of over-thinking on both sides although that is an entirely other story. the reason i found myself recalling this today is i found myself wondering how wrong it is not to profit from china. given the (arguable) moral compromise one has to make being here at all, and wondering why i even bother with world-improving, shouldn't i at least be getting rich from shouldering on in this steamy grey mess? so many others seem to be. and 'to get rich is glorious' and all the rest. of course, if you know me you know that even in the deepest hues of my red china blues this kind of thinking can't last for long. nonetheless, it was entertaining to consider the question. doing so may have helped restore some sense of perspective, although i am still very restless and ready to jump. or dance. or something. (then again, maybe i always am. ready to dance, that is.)

i think the grey skies always make me feel as though i'm static - suspended by the particulate matter that presses against my skin. i feel constrained. contained. and it irks me. and makes me yearn for something explosive or inspiring to transpire. i want to get hit by a shooting star. or fall in love. or engage in animated discussions till dawn. or dance in the street. or take an impulsive trip to somewhere entirely unexpected....

a friend and i sought out adventure last night. we found mango martinis. and football. it is my outlet at the moment. i do adore the world cup! a game i can understand. hot men on screen. who are passionate and incredible athletes. international affairs on the field. unlimited free peanuts. all around awesome. this interest in sport came as a surprise to some friends who had never ever heard me mention or show an interest in sport of any kind ever ever prior to a casual comment about a potential conflict with a proposed concert and the world cup final. but during this month every four years i do two things that are out of character: (1) i watch a lot tv in pubs and (2) i drink beer. sometimes you have to push your boundaries.

speaking of which, i need to be doing more of that. pushing boundaries. in manners more meaningful and larger than lager. although i realize as i write this that it entirely contradicts my previous post's commitment to wu wei and nonaction / effortless doing. maybe there is space for both. onwards, onwards. next stop, wonderland.

divine accidents

i just spent a weekend celebrating them. divine accidents, that is. with some of my nearest and dearest in napa valley. butting heads against the stars, laughing at the blind incongruous beast called youth, treasuring the intimacy that comes with years and in unexpected moments, intense laughter and endless tears, savouring delicious wines, enjoying the kiss of fresh sunshine, and folding comfortably into the embrace of friendship. it was magic. a most welcome escape from the northern capital. but also a reminder of what really matters. and in a very personal sense, where i have been and where i am going. what it is i seek. what is that, exactly? hmmmm. perhaps the means by which strength and grace combine. that, and a laugh with a friend over a wonderful glass of wine. (is there not overlap?)

returning to being has been an abrupt confrontation with poor air quality and general disappointment in state of things here. that being said, i believe that i have accepted on some level that whatever the conversation was that i began with this city seventeen years ago as a young lass must inevitably be concluded here. and the talk is not complete. and so i stay. and continue the conversation, staring beijing straight in the eye. with all that i abhor about it, the moments i adore, noting my inevitable retreat into the me-within-me and the colourful plumage. life will never come along and make me lower my gaze. perhaps i think about narrative arcs too much. i have been wondering about that of late. (though some would say that it is the thrust of one's narrative that counts, not the accuracy of one's details.)

my thinking about narrative, memories, love, faith, and a sincere, deep delight in life again has me contemplating how to best direct my enthusiasms. eventually it must combine my passions for public justice and performance. although when i look down upon it now, i can see so many possible tributaries, so many possible directions. which is, i suppose, the point of continuing the conversation.

in other news, if may was the month of momentum, i've decided that june is the month of embracing imperfections. after having a recurring dream about a cheeseburger, i found myself last weekend telling a waitress who was querying about dietary restrictions at one of the amazing meals we enjoyed, "i'm allergic to scallops, and i'm a vegetarian.... but i'll take the duck." it was delicious. as were a few bites of steak and cheeseburger the following night. somehow eating meat satiated some other desire that was stirred up a few weeks prior. remarkable, how the body works.

in truth, it's not about momentum, or imperfections, narrative arcs or desires anyway. i am hoping that by july i will be on the path of wu wei - effortless action - and just be.

crack open and shine

so, the required time for rainbowing was in fact rather brief. processing was swift and sweet. and so the sky ballet continues. i am this morning considering the infinite ways life cracks open and shines. always, always when you least suspect it! such is the magic of the world.

in less abstractly substantive news, i also find myself this morning at a curious style crossroads. i am wearing a skirt that belonged to a friend's grandmother. one day she wrapped it up and sent it to me via post even though at that time she lived in brooklyn and i lived in manhattan. the accompanying note said she thought it might fit me and that her grandmother had a tremendous spirit and so it might be fitting in that sense as well. she was right on both counts! it is high-waisted and tapers to a flare below the knee. there is a curious weighted ribbon which falls from the inner-front of the bodice. the weighted end of the ribbon (which feels as though it has a coin in it) dangles between my mid-upper thighs. i wonder if i am meant to squeeze it somehow to achieve a certain posture or life in my derriere. (i wonder this every time i wear this skirt, actually.) i probably ought to look this up. but instead, i'll appreciate the mystery and the way it grazes my inner thighs. ahh, the delicious complexity of being a woman and dressing! to borrow from yeats:

'To be born woman is to know --
Although they do not talk of it at school --
That we must labour to be beautiful.'

and the reply:

'It's certain there is no fine thing
Since Adam's fall but needs much labouring.
There have been lovers who thought love should be
So much compounded of high courtesy
That they would sigh and quote with learned looks
precedents out of beautiful old books;
Yet now it seems an idle trade enough.'

anyway, rather than grow quiet at the name of love, i shall continue. i have paired this skirt with strands of chocolate pearls and thoroughly modern shoes (an interesting choice). this felt appropriate as i dressed since i feel as though i'm on the verge of a style revolution. and then some.

true colours

this week has been overwhelming. simply overwhelming. thankfully i have come through it full of laughter and grace and light with my true colours shining through. although along the way i had some unmentionable intentions with regards to some other external, abstract colours. if that is obscure, it is meant to be. if you understand it, you are smiling at life with me. well, i hope you're doing that regardless.

i have a little more rainbowing to do in spaces more private than this one. so sionara for a spell. until i return, please let's continue to burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

impossible things

one of my favourite lines from through the looking glass is the white queen's - "why, sometimes i've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." just prior to that pronouncement she had been chiding alice for proclaiming that one can't believe impossible things with: "'i daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the queen. 'when i was your age, i always did it for half-an-hour a day.'" it was children's day on tuesday, and i found myself in a conversation about the buoyant nature of a child's spirit. and how we ought to hold onto that as adults. i couldn't help but think as i listened that the buoyant spirit of my childhood is still fairly close to the surface. i am thankful for that undercurrent of joy and silliness. and glad i don't take myself too seriously even as an adult. and then i recalled alice and the scene with the white queen,* and realized that i still have a lot of practice believing in impossible things. in fact, i may have believed at least three impossible things before breakfast this morning. it really improved the walk to the bus.

curiously, things are not crazy at work this week. or next. in fact, these might be the quietest two weeks i've experienced. it's a little unsettling. and has me magical thinking, believing the impossible, and over-thinking. if only i could make a career of that. actually, to be fair, i am keeping myself otherwise occupied. as per usual, however, once i have a little bit of time to devote to my myriad ideas for side projects / creative endeavours, i get caught at the outset, unsure which to pursue. the trick of course, is just to pursue. kind of like faith. we can spend far too much time strutting and fretting about finding or choosing a spiritual path or a faith. really, it's not the form so much as the substance that matters. a thought i collected somewhere on this:

listen to jesus and to buddha and to mohamed, but do not get caught up in the names. listen to god's breath.

i recognise that many would not agree with me on this point. the main reason we humans seem to murder or abuse each other has to do with disagreements about faith. clearly no one involved in such conflicts is listening to god's breath. speaking of which, i was awoken the other night by an amazing thunderstorm. it was simply radiant. all sound and fury, wind and love, lightning and hope, branches thrashing, rain falling, hearts dancing. i opened my curtains and turned off the air filter just to allow it to wash over me in my bed and listen more closely. (i of course contemplated running out to dance in the downpour, but reason conquered passion and i appreciated it from under the covers.)

and with that, i shall delay no further, keep listening, believing impossible things, and pursue.

*incidentally, this is also the scene where, shortly after this exchange, the white queen turns into a sheep. i wonder how much time sheep spend believing impossible things.