Countdown

I’ve read that writing a book is like giving birth. I’m going to assume the author was referring to the conception and gestation period of a sperm whale rather than a human. The former takes up to 480 days, the latter takes 280.

Yeah, 16 months feels about right.

Then again, the African elephant takes 680 days, and chances are that’s not including courtship.

Because I haven’t given birth to a human or an elephant, I can only imagine the similarities.

As your due date nears, you may feel sluggish and awkward, but then you get bursts of euphoria, “I’m having a baby!” It becomes so evident to people far and near, that one would have to be an invertebrate not to notice.

More obviously, you have created something from a seed, literally and figuratively. You spent months trying to do the right thing and once the child is born, you love it as much as you can because no one else will love it as much as you.

In addition, you recognize things you might have done wrong, you accept that not everyone will appreciate the sheer brilliance of your creation, and you accept that once the little darling is out in the world, you will have no more control.

The difference between giving birth and writing a book is simple. Once a child is born, you can’t stop thinking and worrying about her. Once a book is published, you have to stop thinking and worrying about him.

As a childless author, I have the luxury to continue on writing in my merry way. I can let go of attachment to my first born and focus on courtship for the next one, before a new gestation period arises. Another bonus is I can pick a new inseminator as the mood strikes me, a lot of people I know don’t have that option.

So expect a few weeks of new motherhood bliss from me, once this late delivery arrives. Yes, I will have copies of my book in my arms for you to coo over, but be assured that I will eventually settle down.

Namaste- letting go means I have more to say.

The Elephant in the Room

There’s an old story about 5 blind men who have no idea what an elephant is, until they are given the opportunity to explore, one by one.

The first feels its tail and reports back, “It’s nothing but a rope”.

The second feels a leg and says, “No you idiot, it’s a tree”.

Third man feels the ear, “What are you thinking, it’s a fan”.

Fourth feels its side and says, “Oh for Pete’s sake, it’s a wall”.

The fifth feels the trunk and says, “What are you all, blind?! It’s a snake”.

What we believe to be true is made up by our experiences and perceptions. Often we don’t appreciate the thoughts or opinions of others because, we feel we know what is true and real, even when some of our senses are hindered.

Dee and I often wonder how people describe us, especially after we’ve made a comment like, “She’s so nice” or “He’s a dope”, about someone else.

“I wonder if anyone thinks I’m nice… or sweet?”, she asks.

“Do you mean as in a sweet old lady? It’s not like you bake or anything”, I reply.

“Christie does think you’re funny though”, I add to be kind.

“Well, Diane said someone called me aloof. Is that a good thing?”

“Probably better than a know-it-all. Do you ever have those times where everyone is talking but you? Do people think I’m a good listener or just stupid?”, I ask somewhat rhetorically, which is my wont.

Being sisters, we can, tirelessly, have this same conversation at least every 6 weeks and never really come to any conclusion.

It’s interesting to wonder how we could be described by others. Chances are the descriptions would be based on the way they know us, as family members, friends, co-workers, students, opponents, teachers, parents, or partners.

“The whole is greater than a sum of its parts” is often, incorrectly, attributed to Aristotle. He wrote something similar but more complicated. None-the-less, the simplified version makes for a nice bumper sticker.

We are all multifaceted and sometimes it takes a while for the big picture to emerge. Letting go of the pieces we believe to be true about a person or a situation can be enlightening.

Sometimes I feel like I’m waiting for everyone to get it together and see that I’m not just the ass end of an elephant. “Would you let go of my damn tail and check out my ears? They listen. And the wall you think you feel is just a thin layer of skin making sure my innards don’t fall out.”

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone.

Perhaps the solution comes by patiently paying attention to ourselves just a little bit more. Notice a consistency or lack there of, in thoughts, words and deeds, in all situations. When we shed light on the truth in ourselves, it’s easier to find it in others, no matter what the relationship.

Then there’s this:

Five blind elephants were discussing what a man was. They plainly had no idea. One day they decided to investigate.

The first elephant went into a tent where a man was reported to be. When she came out she said, “Men are flat”.

The other four went in and after they came out they said, “Yes, you were right”.

Give it a minute.

Namaste- move that blindfold out of the way.