the blue zone and the new zone

I'm reading a book called Blue Zones, all about these pockets where people consistently live to be 100 years old or more.  it is an interesting read, even though it is written in a "you too can live to be 100 by doing these things!" sort of way.  and most of those things are just not part of the typical amreican lifestyle these days (slow down, make time for a spiritual pratice, put emphais on family, eat a plant based diet, drink nothing but water...).  it makes me sort of smug to relize that I already do almost everything suggested, even though I have never had great aspirations to live forever.  but the quality of life descibed in these "blue zones" is certainly something to be desired.  much different than the old people I know, for sure.

it is quite a juxtaposition to be reading and thinking about extending life at the end while being here to celebrate and support a life that started a bit ahead of schedule.  baby eliza decided to get a jump start on us all, and is actually ("ashu-a-whee") doing a pretty good job with it all.  seeing her tiny body doing such hard work already while thinking about people on the opposite end of the spectrum who's bodies have been through so much for so long is a comforting thought in my mind.  I think of the technology available now that wasn't even thought of 100 years ago, the miracle that eliza gets to be, partly because she was born in 2012 and not 1912.  but there is also so much to be said for the basic instinctive care that is helping her thrive: kyle's hand reaching into her warming tray to connect with her as only a papa can; breast milk, both from carey's body and from donations of other mamas, still the very best food we know of for little ones, even after years of research and experimentation; richard reading to her so she knows how very loved she is from every direction she can think of.   there is such balance to what we need and what we know we need without knowing we need it.  there is such beauty in caring for those we love (an oursleves!) by doing what come naturally. 

so welcome to the world, eliza lyn.  may you live to be 100 and outshine us all.

come dance with me

this makes me think about my mom and my kids and my life, past present future, in all the best ways.  it makes me hopeful and wistful and happy and teary all at once.  it makes me want to do more and want to do less all at the same time.  I can't wait to dance my way through the next adventure.

why we live where we live

in transylvania county, the manner family is big news.

here's a little snippet from the thursday, june 7 transylvania times, see off news section...

"would you believe the see off mountain homesteaders had a drum circle monday evening?  there was the usual yummy potluck supper.  then about three dozen percussion instruments, from buckets to bongo drums to tambourines, were brought out and after elaborate instructions by nancy richards lasting about 20 second, she started a rhythm and everyone else joined in for a few minutes of joyful beating.  this was repeated several times with different rhythm starters and different rhythms.  everybody had a good time, including 100-year-old maner ware and 2-year-old cora manner

cora's father, eric, manner, has a passion for gardening.  he has worked in nurseries, so he knows a lot about horticulture.  right now he's tending to 120 tomato plants in his garden.  for his birthday he was given a broadfork, a tool with tines that you stand on to work into densely packed soil, which eric says is like using a tiller but with your own muscles and no motor.

cora's mother wendi [ed note: I love that she misspelled my name because her name is "wendy", too.  like it couldn't be possible that we both spelled our names the traditional boring way.  like I must be way out there with my yogurt making and weird name-spelling] likes to make yogurt from goat's milk.  she and marjorie masters, whose husband aaron raises goats on their mini-farm, spent some time monday evening discussing and comparing their methods for yogurt making."

there's a little more see off news, but those are the exciting manner highlights.  at the potluck we also saw eric's aunt phyllis.  I can't remember how exactly she's tied into the family, but it is pretty strange that she lives half the year less than a mile from our house.  never a dull moment at a see off potluck, that's for sure.

there is a push and pull in every day, every moment, really: what I want to do, what I "need" to do, what I feel obligated to do, what I really should do.  then there is the reality of what I actually do.  to balance it all takes careful consideration, forced listening to the still quiet voices, and a partner who holds me accountable in ways I grumble about but actually depend on.  so here is my attempt at balance: a space to write, something I want to do, should do, and have been begged to do by my husband.  one simple act fulfilling so many parts of my daily push and pull.  and whatever ends up in this space is exactly right and exactly enough. 

this is my leap.