This Weekend I

• Drank wine around a bonfire, looked up at an incredible night sky
• Walked a lot
• Meditated
• Watered my plants
• Bought mint chocolate
• Got Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell out of the library to study its structure
• Read Ovid and Freud on a blanket in the sun
• Had a tea party with friends
• Made people laugh
• Made plans to see Get Him To The Greek with a friend
• Discovered rice bread with raspberry preserves….yum.
• Wished my parents would contact me sometimes (instead of it always being the other way around)
• Got excited about writing
• Wanted to cuddle with someone
• Memorized Shakespeare’s sonnet #73
• Felt content.

• To each other, our selves, and others
• Giving freely of time, attention, effort, care, listening, acceptance, friendship, understanding, and loving-kindness.
• A relationship that fosters a sense of abundance, not depletion, so that giving feels effortless and joyful.

2. Virtue

• A commitment to act virtuously, to the best of our ability, no matter the circumstances.
• A commitment to live by the five precepts to the best of our ability: to protect life, only take what is freely given, not harm with sexual energy, be truthful, and abstain from drugs and alcohol.
• A relationship containing enough space, freedom, and independence that virtue feels healthy, natural, even joyful.

3. Renunciation

• The mindful, skillful, and appropriate renunciation of certain thoughts, actions, and/or speech that is harmful to our relationship and/or ourselves.
• Interest in and exploration of the way our relationship might challenge us to be less attached to (and even eventually renounce) certain beliefs, preferences, opinions, habits of thought, behaviors, etc.
• Willingness to, in certain appropriate contexts, renounce something we desire for the sake of the other and/or the relationship. This action would include the trust and knowledge that the other would do the same for us.
• A relationship built on enough trust, respect, loving-kindness, and stability that renunciation does not feel harmful, wrong, or imbalanced, and increases our feeling of abundance rather than leaving us feeling depleted.

4. Wisdom

• A commitment to the practice of thinking, acting, and living with a sense of the greater reality and the essential truths of existence. Doing our best to always come back into contact with the essential truth of impermanence, including ourselves and our relationship.
• A wise knowledge of our own challenges, insecurities, and shortcomings.
• A relationship that deepens wisdom and understanding of all of this, and all the rest.

5. Energy

• A relationship permeated by positive energy: the energy of care and interest that we put into it, and the enlivening, healing energy we get out of it.
• Energy manifesting as continued interest in each other as people; going on adventures and challenging ourselves and each other; lively engagement with life (including openness and wonder); giving each other new energy when one of us is low.

6. Patience

• In general, with each other and ourselves.
• Not expecting superhuman capabilities: patience with shortcomings, weaknesses, negative patterns, insecurities, humanity, mistakes, “baggage.”
• A relationship that actually helps us deepen and broaden our reservoirs of patience.

7. Honesty

• A commitment to communicate clearly, honestly, and openly at all times (balancing our truthfulness with kindness), with ourselves and each other.
• A relationship as a place of safety and trust, so that being honest does not feel dangerous.

8. Conviction

• Commitment to stay with each other (as long as it is healthy and skillful) through life’s ups and downs, knowing that it will not always be fun and/or easy, and having the determination to stay with it anyway.
• A relationship that is nurturing enough to give us the strength needed for conviction and that enriches our lives enough to make staying together worth it.

9. Loving-Kindness

• The foundation of relationship–the guide we refer to when we are uncertain.
• Figuring out what feels like loving-kindness to us as individuals.
• Helping each other to develop and cultivate loving-kindness toward ourselves, each other, and all beings.
• Both expressing it and knowing it is there without always needing it to be expressed.

10. Equanimity

Relationship, ultimately, as a place of safety, refuge, stability, and equanimity, bringing peace and contentment to both our lives.

Helping each other cultivate inner equanimity that will in turn bring more balance and stability to the relationship.

Equanimity being a place from which we can come into greater intimacy with ourselves, each other, and the whole of life.

First of all: it was hard to leave California behind. Something was pulled out of me when the plane was taking off and “Flightless Bird, American Mouth” by Iron & Wine was playing. That was leaving home. That was what I realized, even though the whole world would tell you it isn’t true. I still miss it terribly. I miss the humming presence of humanity, the jogs around Berkeley up toward the hills, buying food at the Bowl, walking down the Mission, coming home tired with the smell of the city on me and washing my hands and face, eating the best pizza and homemade soup and huge salads and delicious tea, the clean peace of Pam and Brian’s house, jazz and culture and friendships and acceptance and love all wrapping me up and holding me close so far away from the cold emptiness of my country home and my ruthless college. Watching the TV when Pam and Brian were away; great conversations at dinner when they came back with flowers from the Canyon; feeling in love, deeply and forever in love with that place.

I discovered Billie Holiday and Tom Waits and Coldplay and played them incessantly. I read “Brand” and Eugene Onegin and tried to read Her and couldn’t do it. I felt held, like I hadn’t for a very long time–by the place, by the people, by every detail of my life. It felt like that life had been waiting, patiently, kindly, for me to come and live it. The faces of Central Americans passing by me on the streets of San Francisco. “Tell Me Momma” and “I Don’t Believe You” and “Too Many Mornings” from Dylan’s live ’66 concert blasing from my iPod. Trying to watch “Birth of a Nation;” watching “Apocalypse Now.” Writing letters. Becoming a vegetarian and loving it. The way we unpacked my father’s family. Even walks in long golden sunlight up through the impossibly beautiful neighborhoods of the Berkeley Hills. The night of January 20th when there was such a party at our house. The way I came to love humanity in those seven weeks like I never had before.

That amazing evening on Valencia Street before the dance show, when I found one of my favorite places in the world.

And then it was back here, back to Bennington. My love for Tom Waits blossomed. I was busier and more stressed out than I had ever been in my life. I was working 10 hours a week in the dining hall until I dropped a shift because I was breaking down. I lived with Rachel in a clean white room on the bottom floor of Sawtell–room three. I had the side with the drafty window. Slowly but surely, we decorated the walls with little colorful scraps of our lives. I hung the Tibetan peace flags from Mudita on my closet door. I had some cheap vanilla scent that got old really fast. I had hand sanitizer on my desk and writing quotes on the wall above. My favorite breakfast was yogurt with cracklin’ oat brain, raisin bran, sometimes muesli, peach slices, and strawberries, and often a couple slices of melon. I had coffee every morning. For the first half of the semester I was so busy that I skipped dinner and ran from place to place and felt awful. On Mondays I had Edith Wharton/Henry james from 8 to 10, ate lunch from 11.30 – 12, worked salad duty from 12 – 1, had History of Science (usually with a snack) from 2 – 4, dinner from 5 – 5.30, and salad duty from 5.30 – 6.30. I would usually do homework for the rest of the night.

I got addicted to checking my email this term. I also discovered Will Stratton’s music (thanks to Rachel) and came to love it. I began keeping a little notebook of miscellaneous eyes. I chewed a lot of gum, didn’t go to the gym as often as I would have liked, and felt very clean pretty much all the time. Began making graham-cracker-peanut-butter-raisin-chocolate-chip sandwiches again midterm and got re-hooked. Missed talking to Thalia. Felt ridiculously cut off and isolated.

Tuesday was ceramics 8:20 – 12, lunch 12 – 1, meeting with advisor 1 – 1:30, homework until 4, when I would go to my American Music class in Jennings. Usually walked back with Corinne, a wonderful new friend this term. Had dinner, and then homework.

Wednesday I had no classes. I got up early anyway, sometimes I wrote, usually I just did homework, sometimes went to the gym. Thursday was the same as Monday except I also had music from 4 – 6, and then SSJ in the evening. I usually ate dinner with some combination of Corinne, Emily Harris, Olivia Gannon, Melanie, Rachel, Alex, and Megan Costello. I usually left the dining hall with an apple, or an orange, or a peppermint or spearmint. I discovered Villnöß online in late May–northeastern Italy, most beautiful place EVER. I had shea butter hand moisturizer on my desk, wearing a little green t-shirt that said “Cuddle with someone from Green Mountain College.” It came on a little stuffed owl that Danielle gave me for my birthday. My bed was all white with the colorful patchwork pillow on it. I had my Revolver poster on the wall, a picture of my favorite house in Historic Deerfield, a penguin card from my family, my Wall-E birthday card and 3-D stickers from Rachel, mini-Tibetan prayer flags, an alien I made out of construction paper, and the rhino card. My favorite salad was spinach or mixed greens, cucumber, mushroom, tomato, and feta cheese.
Friday I had no classes, so it was much the same as Wednesday, except from 10 – 12 I had work (helping the cook). Later in the semester I would picnic on Fridays with Rachel, Betsy, Melanie, Corinne, Olivia, and Emily. Saturdays I had salad duty 5:30 – 6:30 and then table-washing until 8. One hot sticky evening I got through it by pretending I was a poor writer in Venice who washed tables at a big hotel to pay the bills. On Sunday I had salad duty in the evening again. Alex and Rachel and I joked a lot, and the most common themes were hippies, your mom, and how everything was fine and great and wonderful. I grew Rachel’s little plants in the window and she usually slept at Alex’s.

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