16livesofreinvention

Reflections on the nature and the nurture

2009_4

I’m sorting life in the Stanford house. It won’t remain fixed here as it did for almost 60 years.

I am reminded constantly of the stability and longitude of my parent’s union. Their parents knew one another, immigrants in Los Angeles in the 1930s. Sol and Anita met at 13 and 14 began dating about 17/18, married at 20/21. Both studied and worked through college, Anita was a schoolteacher in the East Bay and worked at Langley Porter, but Sol was the one with the PhD, the mentors and the career that grew exponentially. Nothing would have been the the same without her fierce, considered, critically thought input. They built and learned and adventured and traveled and socialized together. They became a hub of community. That was their passion, after each other; learning, work, travel and engagement.

There is everything here in the Stanford house, the transparency of the life lived. Life and actions and choices made available in myriad forms. In each room and garden the chance to look at and take in and learn by reviewing this particular life’s objects. Everything here was chosen for it’s purpose of use, utility, function, beauty, pleasing design, yes, always appreciation for quality and design. There is also much that was chosen for curiosity and pleasure of learning, taking on other’s points of view and experience through art, music, reading, friendship, travel, even cooking. I am also left with their individual productivity, Sol the consumate scholar, and both Anita and Sol, scholars and and writers. Anita the designer and gardener.

This recipe of life they lived (together, in a daily, grounded way) and their constant continued learning through curiosity and absorbtion of other viewpoints and experiences was the full package for Anita and Sol.

I’m not sure ( I haven’t grown up with other parents) but I can say, my parents were remarkable individuals with clear ethics, who also maintained a remarkably egalitarian partnership for close to seventy years. I wish more people could experience such a model. I witnessed how they designed and held tight to this golden, though never effortless life. They had their children, first Rachel then me, Julie. It’s no surprise we grew up thinking art and literature, then following close behind, cooking and entertaining our friends were the most important pursuits.

My 16 Lives Of Reinvention

its a birthday

Today is my first birthday without the three people that had always been there from the beginning: Anita, Sol, and Rachel. I woke up dreaming about Sol. In the dream I think we were meeting new caregivers, Sol was being humorous and good-natured, and we found one that was good. When I woke up, I could see him sitting and smiling as before, in health.

I remember right away it’s my birthday. I call forth the three of them. I miss them. I feel they all want me to have a good birthday this year. From and for Anita, I will buy a new rosebush or two. Rachel just encourages me to paint, and indulge my inner child. Splash in a bath, buy a frivolous thing, or new shoes. She is not picky about this . Sol is rock solid, provider. It doesn’t matter to him that I acquire any new thing. He just wants me to be stable. I feel they all still love me even if sometimes I am hard to understand. I ordered a new ring a few weeks ago at the Temescal Street fair, and Monday I will see it and get it sized. That is a present to myself.

I can have a nice birthday today even with some grief in my heart. I’m happy to be alive, with stability and love and possibility in my life. I also have grief, sadness, bitterness here and there. Even real fears, at the moment none these are not blocking me from living life or choosing action.

Today is going to be a good day. I’m happy for my able, physical body , for mind and growth, for my drive and desire to know, to connect. I started life with a happy generous spirit. I was a kinetic, happy, talkative child. I’m grateful for my inner creative spring which continually regenerates. When I doubt, I only have to look at what I have done, and remember “there is always more where that came from”.

This is the place

This is the post excerpt.

I’ve been wanting to write for months. Actually I have been writing, often, scribbling in small notebooks. And one day soon hopefully I’ll transcribe some of those scribbles. But right here right now is today’s opportunity for reflection. I’m going to send it out to friends who knew and loved my family. Please know if you are reading this, this platform is not designed for perfectionism in words or editing.

I have been and will be sorting through my parent’s and my sister Rachel’s and my own things for the next few months and likely years. It’s tiring and emotional and rewarding. The things are triggers to memory. I remember, maybe even relive past events. I guess some part of me is very drawn to this process.