Music for a While November 19, 2015

In September, my energetic music teacher Trevor initiated an informal weekly session on composition, and my buddy Julie signed up for it.  Somehow, despite my taking three other classes, I got swept up into the fun, too.  Julie has now completed a lengthy theme and variations for piano, while I am still struggling with a few incredibly short vocal pieces, including, believe it or not, a Yogi Berra song cycle.  Actually, they are not horrible, but the process of working out the details on staff paper…well, tedious is the word.  Our works are going to be performed in two weeks!  As Yogi said, “When you see the fork in the road, take it.”  This was certainly a fork I did not see coming.

Sitting Still November 19, 2015

Following a surgery some dozen years ago, I stayed home for a few weeks to recuperate.  It was October.  I sat on the window seat in my living room, reading and just looking out over the neighborhood.  I was struck by the simplicity and the beauty of it all – leaves tumbling to the street, neighbors walking their dogs, birds flitting about the trees, the mail carrier hiking up and down our hill, the UPS delivery person just as the sun was setting.   And I thought to myself, “This must happen every day, but I never see it.”  A whole universe of routine and contentment within a few feet of my front door, and I always rushing too quickly to drink it in.

Today I scrapped my busy schedule to rest in my kitchen, write a few letters, and reflect on the past few months.  Sometimes, it seems, our most precious moments lie in just sitting still.

What comes in September 23, 2015

In my early days at UCSF, a bright and industrious young man named Scott joined our lab.  He worked as a technician for a year before continuing as a medical student and conducting his thesis research with me.  Scott was about to present his work at a meeting in San Antonio and we flew there together, sitting side-by-side.  He was studying for an exam, deep into memorization when I opined that it seemed likely that for every new fact that came in, an old one had to be dislodged.  He looked up at me seriously and said, “Turns out that’s not true.”

I’ve been reminded of this conversation during the past week as I’ve been trying to stuff my old brain with new information.  What a lot is getting shoved in there!  From Powhatan to Pontiac in Native American studies, from Timur to Taj in one architectural history class and Beaux Arts to Beardsley in another, who knows how much will stick, not to mention how much other stuff may fall out.  But I am indeed convinced that the net is still on the plus side.  Perhaps Scott was right.

Epiphany #3 August 31, 2015

I realized today (and you are saying, “You mean you just got that?”) that part of the reason I have so much trouble making decisions is that I attach such weight to them, as though there is one best solution and that I will only be content/successful/fulfilled (etc.) if I make the very best choice.  Much of this is learned behavior, as my parents were exceedingly cautious in many ways.  Some of it stems from the very real challenges of trying to build a career, to establish secure financial stability, to form and care for a family, to live in a safe and supportive environment.  It is a pattern I have established over a long lifetime.  And part of it is just who I am.

The corollary to this revelation is that now that I am retired, now that I have financial security, now that I realize I have no control over Annie, now that I have established a home in a part of the world that I love, how impactful can any of these small decisions that I grapple with truly be?  Whether I take this class or that, whether I sing with this group or that, I know that I will enjoy them all.  Sure, they will take me down different paths, but nothing really momentous is riding on the outcome.

Ha, let’s see how long that philosophy will stick!

Enough August 30, 2015

The bookstore in Point Reyes frequently hosts multi-week explorations of books that broadly fit into the realm of spirituality – slowing down, paying attention, living life more authentically – and though I don’t attend the workshops, I often buy a copy of the recommended book and read it on my own.  This weekend’s exploration was “A life of being, having, and doing enough” by Wayne Muller.  What a little gem, received at just the right time.  What is enough?  Why isn’t what we have right here, right now “enough”?  Why do we suffer from the feeling that we are never doing enough, contributing enough?  Muller’s short and engaging book, filled with eye-opening metaphors and parables, is just what I needed at this moment.

As it happens, a friend who now lives in Bangkok is visiting the Bay Area, and as we chatted about plans I had considered for this fall, she espoused the virtue of doing nothing.  I immediately protested that I wasn’t doing these things just to keep busy but that I genuinely enjoyed them and was enriched by them.  But something she said stuck:  "How would you know what the alternative would be like?  You have never tried it!" 

Just so.

Check-in August 30, 2015

The summer passed quickly enough, much of it spent in quiet resignation.  However, I did explore two new venues in the path of art and music, and both were well worth it.

First, I took a summer course at UC Berkeley, a “visual studies” class called Paint and Pixel taught by Katie Hawkinson.  My goal was to try my hand at graphic design and learn a little Photoshop and Illustrator in the process.  What a blast this was!  We designed posters and postage stamps and explored concepts through line and color.  It was so engaging and so satisfying to generate a design and have it printed within a short period of time.  Compare that to the protracted process of architecture, with its multi-dimensional plans, permits, and construction.

My second adventure was joining the Stanford Summer Chorus.  What a hoot this was!  Following only six rehearsals and one dress rehearsal, we found ourselves singing in the magnificent and resonant Memorial Church.  The program centered on the Earth, and in his kooky and wonderful way, the director Raf Ornes even had an earth quiz on our registration forms.  A geek after my heart.  I will plan singing with them next summer, too.

Recalling Passaggio August 29, 2015

Though my journey has been interrupted this year by a string of personal “challenges”, I do try to keep going.  This blog had been pushed to the back of my mind until last week when I received an email from a colleague in Michigan who recommended a subject for a genetics interview.  She and I exchanged a few additional emails as she considered whether she should keep working in the face of poor government funding for the sciences.  Her issue was the same as it is for many of us who love our work so much and wonder how we could be happy and fulfilled without it.  It was then that I remembered my blog, in particular an entry on February 15^th of this year, and I suggested she take a look at it.  She did!

Recovery August 28, 2015

My last entry, now almost five months ago, involved my decision to pass up an opportunity to study architecture in Rome.  That conclusion came from worry over a daughter struggling with profoundly challenging issues.  It was right not to go:  Annie disappeared in late May, just when I would have been departing, and it took every bit of strength and tenacity to get her back.  I won’t go into the details of her disappearance or her rescue, but suffice it to say that was an experience that I never thought she or I would have, and one that has taken me all summer to begin to digest. 

During her disappearance, I thought it was very likely that I would lose her completely, that she would die.  It was time for me to prepare myself for this, and to let people close to us know as well.

I went to see one of my oldest and dearest friends Barbara and her husband Warren in the evening, about four days after she disappeared.  At this point, I knew where she was and that she was held captive in a hideous revolving door of drugs and abuse.  I needed to tell them of my grief.  I needed to ready them, too, that they might never see her again.

I went to see Risa and Brian, parents of Annie’s high school boyfriend.  They loved her too, I knew.  They knew nothing of her downhill spiral over the past few years, and when I shared her deadly journey with them, Brian burst into tears.  It was a terrible tale to tell.

Ultimately, through the work of a Colorado detective and a San Francisco police office – both extraordinary, both women – Annie was pulled from disaster one more time.

I tell you all this to explain why I too have disappeared.  Annie has spent the summer in safety.  She has started college again.  She seems to be thriving.  How long will this last?  How can one human heart take so much pain?

Rome April 7, 2015

One of the readings for my Architecture and the Environment course was written by three women who, as architecture students, spent a year traveling and drawing in Europe.  I was so taken by their shared experience and individual renderings that an idea started to percolate: someday I might do that, if only for a few weeks.  So, when a recent CCA email popped into my inbox to announce their three-week summer abroad programs, I immediately zeroed in on an architectural drawing course in Rome.  How perfect!

Rome.  I had spent a week there with my first husband so many years ago – thirty?  I’ve lost count.  Both of us still recall our meal of fava beans and fried squash blossoms in the Jewish quarter.  We visited the settings for the three acts of Tosca: the Church of the Sant’Andrea della Valle, where Cavaradossi paints the Madonna; the Palazzo Farnese where Tosca stabs Scarpia and sings E Avanti a lui, tremava tutta Roma!; and the Caste Sant’Angelo where Cavaradossi is shot and Tosca flings herself off the parapet.  Happy memories of a happier time.

I quickly enquired about the trip, an extra space was found for me, but I soon balked at the reality of leaving in late May.  Annie.  How could I be that far away when she was struggling so hard?  Not now. Rome has been around for a long time; it will be there next year.

The Kitchen at Seder April 5, 2015

I met my late husband Roy in 1990, and for these past 25 years, more or less, I have enjoyed spending the Seder with his closest friends and their families.  Seder happens at Howard and Carol’s home, on Euclid Avenue in the Berkeley hills.  We arrive between 5 and 5:30, Earl and Beverly from Mill Valley, Jeff and Julie from Davis, me from San Francisco, and Sheldon and Nikki now transplanted to Bethesda MD.  The next generation, and even the next-next generation, come too.  

Roy has been dead almost 18 years, Annie is asunder, and this year I arrive alone.  All the other marriages and children are intact, as is the bond I feel for all of them.

Sitting around an enormous ring of beautifully set tables, we make it through the Haggadah, followed by a feast that Carol has prepared, each year’s matzo ball soup smoother and more delectable than the last.  Each of us has contributed a dish of spring bounty – perfectly cooked asparagus with a lemony sauce, salads with edible flowers, rhubarb crumble.  The sung Dayenu is so off-key that I tear up in laughter.  Every year, it is the same.

I slip into the kitchen to help keep up with the rounds of dirty dishes, and that’s where the real conversation happens, especially with Carol, Nikki, and Julie, whom I rarely see.  I don’t realize my loneliness until I am home again, and it makes being with them all the sweeter. Until next year…

The Song Unit March 25, 2015

A few years ago, while still actively employed at UCSF, I read a letter of recommendation for a job candidate whose first name was Song.  The referee noted that the applicant worked in 3- or 4-hour time blocks that her co-workers had come to call “Song Units”.  Since I was then working on a book project, mainly at home, I adopted the Song Unit to discipline myself.  I took on a schedule of arising early to accommodate one Song Unit in the morning, a three-hour break over midday, and another Song Unit ending by 6:30 pm.  The intensive periods of concentration, when I staved off any impulse to pay a few bills, weed, wash the dishes, or check my email, heightened my work.  But an unintended consequence was the beauty of the in-between time, when I forced myself not to work, not even to think about work, but rather to run my errands, walk with friends, take in an art exhibit or movie, or go to yoga.  Evenings were freed up too, for reading, dining out, ballet, symphony, or opera.  Each aspect of the day became more fulfilling, focused, and joyful. 

Once my sabbatical ended, I went back to my office, and I lost sight of the Song Unit until recently, when my friend Gail, a retired interior designer and now painter, told me that she was having trouble carving out blocks of time for her artwork.  I told her about the Song Unit, and I think she is trying to figure out how to make it work for her.  I’m reestablishing the Song Unit for myself, too.  And now, part of my Song Unit is indeed… singing!

M Arch March 23, 2015

Last week’s email brought some exciting news: I was accepted into the Masters of Architecture program at CCA (California College of the Arts). It also brought a bit of “unwelcome” news from UC Berkeley: I was not accepted. I am relieved to not have to make a choice, as decision-making is not my strong suit. Moreover, since CCA is located right in San Francisco, wedged between the south-of-market design district and the UCSF Mission Bay campus, studying there eliminates big issues with commuting or moving across the Bay. CCA has a vibe I really like, with design of all sorts – graphic, industrial, furniture, fashion, textile – located together with architecture under one big roof of an old bus hangar.

With the acceptance by CCA, I am starting to realize that I might actually be able to do this crazy thing: study architecture, immerse myself in a foreign culture, learn by leaps and bounds. Already I am starting to gain a little confidence, look at my surroundings in new ways, take myself perhaps a bit more seriously.

Yesterday came another email from CCA: an invitation to take one of their summer courses in Europe. What an opportunity I had not even imagined!  Now, I will. But for the moment, I’m just savoring the future that has opened up for me.

Talking about Retirement February 15, 2015

Last night I went to a lovely dinner reception for a faculty member new to UCSF.  Among the guests were a number of faculty who were of “retirement age”, and naturally the conversation turned to the pluses and minuses of taking the leap.  At UCSF that leap can have a very gentle landing, both because of its generous pension program and because one can retain an office and a connection, even continuing to work part time. I, for example, occupy a small cubby and am delighted to pop in occasionally to work on a writing project, to review a few grant applications or manuscripts, and to check in with old friends and colleagues in the process.

A few of us present have made the leap to the other side.  One colleague is taking literature classes and hopes to get a Masters Degree and teach literary criticism.  Another is now singing in a chorus, taking classes in watercolor, and skiing.  Another, a Nobel Laureate, opted for retirement but still comes to lab every day.  I asked her whether having a Nobel Prize made it more difficult for her to let go completely, because after winning it, one’s life is no longer one’s own.  She said that she felt her greatest obligation was to speak at events for girls and young woman.  Others talked about friends who had been uneasy to make the change, but once it happened they enjoyed themselves so much they never looked back.  One woman described not wanting to leave the career she loved so much, especially her interaction with patients, but acknowledge her longing to work in her garden.  And yet another said she too loved her job but was so fed up with the complications brought on by the new hospital that she was ready to pack it in.

It is a big leap. It is hard to willingly end a career one has nurtured for so many years, a career that has given such satisfaction, a career that one that has loved.  But sooner or later, it is a very reasonable choice. The next stage in one’s life can be just as satisfying as the last!

The Five Remembrances February 4, 2015

A few years ago, I participated in a Zen/Yoga retreat at Tassajara.  Our teacher Linda Cutts shared a powerful teaching known as the Five Remembrances. When I find myself in a challenging personal situation, I think on these words.  Perhaps they will be helpful to you, too.

I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape ill health.

I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.