Author’s image: 20 October, 07:52 am, Luxembourg
Sometimes the whole world seems to stop. You try and catch your breath. You breathe in deeply, but find it hard. The air is stuck, motionless. As you try to blow it out or take another in, there is hope that there will be a shift, some movement and you can return to what was there before. Well, you don’t return. You can’t return. The only way is forward.
This month, with its full moon that my grandson and I observed one dark morning on the way to school, brought with it new challenges, a frenzy of activity to engage the mind and yet other moments to watch, wait and hope. On these journeys to and from school, I have the great privilege to learn from a nine-year-old’s wisdom and from his observations of the world around him. His statements and questions;
“My teacher says the yellow of the egg, the yolk, is what gives you strength. But … I am strong and I am a vegan.”
Noticing a scab on his upper arm, now a few days old, I asked; “what happened there?” He replied that he wasn’t sure about when and how it happened but; “what I do know is that the scab is the skin’s own plaster, Meema?”
Not long ago I was sewing a button back onto a favourite shirt as my grandson had helped me find a suitable thread and new button, (yes, I still mend clothes, sew on buttons, hem trousers and darn holes). Musing to myself I commented; “I wonder how long I’ll be able to thread a needle.” My reply to his “why?” was to state that as I get older, my eyesight deteriorates. “Let’s hope not, Meema!”. I’m not sure if he was referring to my eyesight, my getting older, or both. I thought I’d leave myself with the doubt.
I have the fortune to be able to engage in great philosophical conversations with him when we travel around this small country. He, is in his car-seat at the back of my VW Beetle diagonally across from me, in the driver’s seat. I occasionally take a sneak peak in my rearview mirror and marvel at the way in which he engages my mind, makes statements that provoke enquiry and seeks to understand the complexity of life.
Toni Morrison (1996) writes of the “Dancing Mind”, open to engage with another, equally open. As I try to ‘dance’ with the minds of others, I find it hard to engage in ways that create a shared understanding and to become more than who I am at this moment in time. But because it is hard, doesn’t mean that I won’t keep trying. The past cannot be one that we forgive and forget but one to remember, understand and repair. Although my writing is a solitary endeavour, one that comes from this mind, it needs your mind as the reader to make it complete. If not, it has no meaning, no purpose. I do not want to dance alone!
This month I was part of two writing workshops. One on Writing with our Ancestors facilitated by Kerra Bolton of Narratively https://www.narratively.com/p/diving-deep-to-learn-from-my-ancestors-18e
and the other with Denis Hirson from Jacanda Media, South Africa https://jacana.co.za/about-jacana-media/
What I take away is the great writing and reading community that exists out there allowing us all to engage with the minds of others and our own.
This month I leave you with two references and a question. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Toni Morrison (1996) The Dancing Mind. Vintage
Toni Morrison (2017) The Origin of Others. Harvard University Press
How do you dance with the minds of others?
Patricia Angoy 
“The past cannot be one that we forgive and forget but one to remember, understand and repair”. In short you mean dance with it. I used to think that I should live in the ‘present’. Though my life history [past] is sad; I constantly found myself revisiting and reliving it—at least the humane memories of it—when I wanted to feel truly happy. You are right, ‘forgive and forget’ is one of the most dismissive statements out there. Your grandson seems to pose brain-scarring questions. Questions that leave you scratching your head. I feel the same way when Toni Morrison explores the theme of murder in “Beloved” or the weight of one’s color of eyes in the ‘Bluest Eye’. I love it when I exchange letters with others and see how they attempt to distill and/or winnow themselves onto the paper.
Thank you very much for sharing this!
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You always make my mind dance, Francisco! You have the capacity to make me see more, think more and be more. I love the way you weave my favourite author, Toni Morrison into your comment. I always wondered what was behind the forgive and forget saying – it takes away the existence of what happened. Our memories of our lives should not be taken away by others to let us see what we can do with these remembering. I am learning so much from your generation and that of my grandson. May you continue to be present in my life.
Thank you so much
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Querida Patricia, me parece hermoso que compartas tus sentires , tus emociones , insisto , eres muy generosa , me siento agradecida de la vida y que en esta trayectoria del recorrer nos hayamos topado . Que lindo que tengas a ese bello nieto , que está empezando a conocer el mundo y tambien lo puede cuestionar, bueno amiga , tiene a una gran abuela , y a seguir disfrutando de la vida en el aquí y en el ahora .
un abrazo grandote desde Valparaíso, ya nos va quedando menos para encotrarnos
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Querida Lirayen, gracias por leer mi blog y mas aun, comentarlo. Un gran abrazo desde lejos pero cercana
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