Back when I was a kid, I remember the "end of the school year syndrome," which basically meant that it became almost unbearable to drag myself to school--the end of the year was in sight, but oh how slowly those final days would go.

As a parent I seem to be affected by the opposite syndrome--and it has to do with school vacations, which seem to drag on and on, most especially when they are nearly over. This Christmas break has been delightful and trying in turns, and I know that I am about done with it because in a final act of desperation I've locked myself in the bathroom with my laptop so that I can blog.

Ever since I've been in Kona, this blog has been a lifeline. It allows me to process, to connect, to be part of a network of friends which has helped keep me afloat as each day here is filled with new people and experiences.

Thank you, friends, for your comments, which I treasure--and thank you fellow bloggers for putting your life out there and helping me feel less alone--Oh, no, Anna is on to me. She's at the door. "Mama," she asks, "Where are you? And why are you on your computer?"

So that's it for now. And yes, we did go snorkeling. I'd like to do it everyday. It is wondrous to be underwater, among the oblivious fish and coral. One of the larger effects of being on the Big Island is that so much of my daily reality forces perspective, from the surprisingly vast underwater view, to the infinite starry nights, to the lava fields which go on and on and make the sky open up. I'm caught in the paradoxes of nature--how birth and death, creation and destruction seem so tangled together in this place and in my own body.

I came across this quote on a card at Kona Health foods, and it seems to express something of my experience here:

"Wisdom tells me I am nothing.
Love tells me I am everything.
Between the two my life flows."

--Nisargadatta Maharaj


Ser said...

Ooh, what a beautiful quote. I love your descriptions of Kona. It seems so different from here in Columbus, Ohio, but also I am struck with how settling in a new place, no matter where it is, involves huge shifts in perspective.

Thank you for your phone message and your comment on my blog. Your encouragement is really what got me writing again (since grad school) in the first place and often what keeps me writing.


anna j said...

Hey now, Jenny--no fair to leave us with such a cliffhanger . . . give us more of your lovely and inspiring words, explain your current state-of-heart, pretty please? :-)

anna j said...

on second thought, forgive my pushiness :-) i know well the feeling of not knowing how to express something yet verbally, even though it may be internally meaningful or significant . . . sometimes words come slowly, and i would never want to pressure anyone to write--especially not a writer i benefit so much from, as i do from you!

Julia said...

I'm just realizing I'm behind on your blog-- your posts are so much more frequent than in the past. I love Haiwaii as a symbol for birth and death tangled up, and also love this quote. It sounds like you're having lots of profound insights...and I can totally relate to the need to hide with your laptop.