Slowdown Throwdown Revisted

 In Response to: I Was Sleeping Where the Black Oaks Move

Sometimes when our youth comes to an end, it feels as though we are watching a natural disaster unfold in front of us. Growing out of my childhood, I felt as though my golden thread was slowly being cut, fiber-by-fiber. Each tear was a rip in my heart. I watched as time drowned the roots of my younger years, loosening its grip, and its place in this world. The first root that let go was when my grandma moved back to the Philippines. She is everything I know, her hands taught me nourishment, her lips taught me silence, and her legs taught me strength. When she left, that was all reduced to memories, ignited by smelling the dusters she left behind. The lingering, but fading, scent of garlic, soil, and laundry detergent were dormant memories of life-long lessons. 

The second root was my dad moving. My father had a job opportunity in California that he desperately needed, and the price was living alone with my sister. Being solitary in your youth is a lot different than when you’re an adult. Abruptly, I had to learn how to survive. My sister was just a nursing student, and I was trying to make my way through high school. At the same time, our dog who we have had since my parents got divorced, had a metastasized tumor, was emaciated, and on death’s door. My sister would sneak medical supplies from her clinical rotations, so we could patch up our dogs' necrotizing flesh. Through heart, our dog lived comfortably for another 6 months, until she died peacefully in her sleep. When she left, she took away the toothless wide grin of a little girl too. 

Despite the heartbreaking reality of letting go of our childhood, Louise Erdrich’s poem, “I Was Sleeping Where the Black Oaks Move”, reminds me of seeing the ghosts of our past lives. She talks of how we see destruction take place, and destroy the world around it, so ruthlessly. When it is all over, we see the aftermath of what took place. To me, it’s like seeing the lessons and values you have learned in your youth reflected in adulthood. Certain sensory stimuli tease the phantoms of loving memories. Erdrich is talking of how colonialism has destroyed her land, and how she can only reminisce and dream. 

I Was Sleeping Where the Black Oaks Move

BY LOUISE ERDRICH

We watched from the house

as the river grew, helpless

and terrible in its unfamiliar body.   

Wrestling everything into it,

the water wrapped around trees

until their life-hold was broken.

They went down, one by one,

and the river dragged off their covering.

Nests of the herons, roots washed to bones,   

snags of soaked bark on the shoreline:   

a whole forest pulled through the teeth   

of the spillway. Trees surfacing

singly, where the river poured off

into arteries for fields below the reservation.

When at last it was over, the long removal,   

they had all become the same dry wood.   

We walked among them, the branches   

whitening in the raw sun.

Above us drifted herons,

alone, hoarse-voiced, broken,

settling their beaks among the hollows.

Grandpa said, These are the ghosts of the tree people   

moving among us, unable to take their rest.

Sometimes now, we dream our way back to the heron dance.   

Their long wings are bending the air   

into circles through which they fall.   

They rise again in shifting wheels.   

How long must we live in the broken figures   

their necks make, narrowing the sky.

Louise Erdrich, “I Was Sleeping Where the Black Oaks Move” from Original Fire: Selected and New Poems. Copyright © 2003 by Louise Erdrich. Reprinted with the permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Source: Original Fire: Selected and New Poems (HarperCollins Publishers Inc, 2003)

Sacagawea

 Where is West? 

A’akkuse
Where is West

When was it that I lost the West?

The missouri river, you flow southeast 

That's when I started to lose the West 

My map got wet, I gripped on it as

The river took me by my ankles, 

and dragged me 

Further east,

further south

The river held me, I am not water, 

I am sky

And then he came

The ink bled, ineligible now 

My eyes pour 

my vision never waivers 

The faded print 

From the sky, I see our place

A bird’s eye 

 

A collection,

One of sky, one of water

My trade, the blemishes and the bruises 

My skin darkens, not by the sun 

But by the same hand 

That paints your face

the paper thins, fragile now

You take me

And with each hand print

I hear a tear 

I see shreds

nothing but fibers 

My vision blurs 

Before I close my eyes, 

What was the map, 

Was all I saw

As he left another mark within me 

My eyes are dull and empty

Where, is West?

Where is West II

In my hands, I can not see the curves of the rocks 

My fingernails hold no traces of dirt 

My jaw aches and is shut tight 

My legs and feet swollen 

I see where I lay 

I see the border of the floor, where it meets the walls 

I see the vertical columns of the logs in the wall

higher

I want to see the peaks of the trees

I want to see the wrinkles of a’ni ki, ana 

How it rises from dirt into a mighty figure 

Standing proud, standing tall 

Higher 

I want to see the moon shining down

glistening 

Like ripples on a still lake 

Leaving quiet footsteps

Higher 

how the sun lovingly hugs the horizon 

As it falls down into the Earth 

And the world hums to slumber 

But I am stuck on the ground 

I crawl into the corner of my mind 

And I can not find it 

The shapes of the Earth somewhere

I can not feel Her breath 

I can not hear the hum of Her heart 

I feel a throbbing in my core, 

I trace my hand on the walls of my womb,

An extension of me 

It is loose and sore 
And changes day by day

West

The water is still before it streams 

The earth is solid, before it cracks 

The hearth is cold, before it ignites 

The wind is quiet, before it flies 

The land searches its end 

And you find a new beginning 

A beginning of water 

My body is tranquil

My breath is paused 

Until I reach the edge of the land

The West water, is vast 

It runs endlessly, and has no direction 

The water reflects the blue of the sky 

And it seems as though you are floating 

You are soaring in an endless blue 

You are West 

Dr. Susan La Flesche Picotte

Dear Susan

A plant deprived of the sun
Can not change it’s location
Nor its surroundings
It can not change the time
Nor when it will rain

Our people deprived of our life
Can not sing our songs with pride
Can not change those around us
Can not call for earth, air, water, nor fire
Can not summon destruction

A plant deprived of the sun
Will be in the shade and learn
To reach the sun
It must forget its shape
And break through the canopy to touch the light

Our people deprived of our life
In this western world will learn
To prosper in adversity
We must forget our body
eat their bread, and drink their wine
don their clothes, mimic their hair
laugh in their parties, learn from their people
And break through the limits to be the light



Return 

I hear the song that echoes inside me
Take off your dresses, stretch your tired feet
Let down your hair, show your true skin
Run back to the place the heart of “begin”

Chasing education, was not in vain
Thirteen-hundred, i’ll rid your pain
I'll rise with the sun, outlive the moon
And keep our beating hearts in tune

I’ll protect you, be your shield
We will wake to flourishing fields
I'll be the sun, the light for the seeds
Shine so bright, and blaze disease

Now you grow, not in hiding
Beautifully blooming, the warmth guiding
I will share, what I have learned
And soon you’ll find, a flame that burns
A glow starting inside you to ignite what my father tried to
brilliant, when you shine on others
Golden hues, brings sisters and brothers 

Love and Mentors

 Eros And Psyche:

• Psyche was a beautiful woman, rivaling that of Aphrodites

• Psyche was so beautiful that everyone was intimidated by her beauty

• Everyone refused to marry her because of her intimidating beauty

• An oracle of Apollo told Psyche’s father that she will marry a monster with wings on the cliffs edges, so her father sent her there

• Psyche was transported to a place where a voice told her to go inside as her husband

• There she felt a body that didn't feel like a monster at all, and so they made love and psyche was pregnant

• Afraid of raising her child, she sought to reveal who her lover was and brought an oil lamp to see him at night, but hurt him with the oil

• The man was eros, and he revealed that he didn’t want to reveal his identity because he thought that mortals were inferior to the gods and that they could not be in love

• Psyche went to seek out eros, but aphrodite stopped her in her tracks, and gave her tasks to do in order to be with eros

• Psyche was able to complete almost all of the impossible tasks, and by the third one, she collapsed due to the box being filled with sleep rather than beauty

• From there, eros found her and realized that immortals and mortals are equals and therefore there is no need for his anxieties 

Mary Magdalene:

• From the view of a lady watching a man 

• Was entranced by his pace of walking, could not decipher whether or not it was fast

• The lady gave a gesture to him, in which he ignored and for that she was angry at him and said, “I hated Him”

• She dreamt of him that night, but her body was reacting violently– as though it was a nightmare

• She saw Him again, and he was in her garden

• She stared at Him , and realized he was handsome, and that she was in love

• She went to go see him, and could not understand why she went to approach Him

• Even though He was saying simple things to her (good morrow to you) she felt a huge effect on herself, and when he rejected her invitation into her house she compared it ti death

• She is a prostitute, “I belonged to all men, and to none”

• She found beauty that everyone called her a harlot or bad words and yet he called her by her name

• She was so desperate for Him and then He confessed that he loves her for who she is, not what she is or what she sells

• He politely declined her and walked away and she was heartbroken but then came to the conclusion that no man walked away from her and that from him, she became a woman with a name 

I have someone who has loved me deeply and who is also a mentor to me, and that is my grandma. She had primarily raised me as my parents are divorced, and both worked multiple jobs to keep up with the debts. My grandmother has changed my life completely and I credit almost all that I am to her guidance and love. As we call her in Filipino, Lola, meaning grandma, she has laid my life out for me without me even realizing it until I face problems where her values come into play. Lola didn't teach me how to pay taxes, how to pay for my college, or how to apply for a job– but she taught me that laughter is the best medicine in life, and that 3 ingredients can make a meal for a king. I listened to her because of the stories she told me. She would detail her older sister’s hair, and how it ran past her ankles. How she watched her sister grow so smart that she caught up to the same grade as their own mother. She told me what it was like being courted by my grandfather, who took a whole army bus just to pick her and her students up from the school she taught up in the mountains. She told me what it was like hiding in the cave from the Japanese soldiers during WWII with her older brother studying to be a doctor at that time. She showed me time and time again– to make the most out of everything– memories, happiness, time. From my understanding of her wisdom and years on her hands, I believed her to be a good mentor, and from that she taught me with immeasurable love. 

For my creative piece, i would like to highlight an analysis of a poem that I did for my grandmother. It is also in this blog– here is the hyper link but I shall also post my writing section below:

Life is fleeting. People change and evolve, shaping ourselves into the mold created by hardships and success. Change is inevitable for life to prosper. My grandma made sure we understood that. She engraved it into my sister’s and mine hearts before she couldn’t. Having divorced parents, life is always so different and constantly morphing.

 I have moved a total of thirteen times, counting both sides. I’ve lived with a total of 3 other families, hearing new experiences and leaving with some of my own. Memories were birthed in large open yards that bled into fresh pine forests but also in cramped townhouses infested with rats every winter. Marble kitchen counter tops were covered in home-cooked visayan food and so were dumpster dove dining tables, but they both held the same warm conversations booming with laughter. My grandma has had the freedom to roam around the town via the access of a free pace bus, asking, “what’s your problem?”, to everyone she meets, then telling them how to navigate their way, preaching the words spoken from last Sunday’s mass, and hugging strangers’ babies. There were also times when I’ve seen her cooped up in her room, legs dull and thin from not going anywhere, eyes blank towards the same Filipino telesarye (Filipino soap operas) that has been running for the past 6 hours, the scent of laundry, crushed garlic, and earth lingering on her hands and vestida. Her prayers at night have been silent but strong, her hand dashing across the pages of her prayer book writing a psalm for everyone on the earth, even those who have cursed her. Some nights they were passionate cries and preaches at night praying for the guidance down “the right path”. Large changes have occurred, from household to lifestyle that I often forget I face a small switch every week for the past 11 years of my life. 

No matter my circumstances, my mind always resonated with what’s going on around me but also how it started. My grandma, or my Lola, reminded me how life is transforming, she also made sure that we knew who we are from, where we are from, and what we are from, which reminded me of  Joy Harjo’s poem. “Remember the earth whose skin you are”, is a line that strongly captured my grandmother's message. She told me to connect back to the soil on which I came from and the soil my parents came from, even if you are on new land. To live as an American, but love as a Filipino. The earth is a place that holds our stories, our connections, and our life— she wanted us to be aware of that, even with the spontaneous course of a river that life sails on. Joy Harjo’s lines and stanzas are like my grandma is whispering in my ear from across the world, reiterating her values that she instilled in me. Here is Remember by Joy Harjo:

https://ponoyoudidnt.blogspot.com/2020/01/this-is-work-inspired-by-tracy-k.html

Emotions

 The Importance of a Breakdown:

Humans are good at upkeep priorities and responsibilities

This pressure, and then we break

Depression, babble, compelled to do bad things

Attach medical meaning behind breakdown so that life can continue, band-aid the situation

Break down is very real, bid for health, an attempt to force ourselves into growth]

“An attempt to jumpstart getting properly well by a chance of falling”

If we shift break down, we are not listening to the main lesson, an opportunity to learn

We need to listen to our mind and hearts

Breakdown is the point of desperation

We can not continue our normal, there needs to be a change otherwise death is preferable

We are inherently lazy

More time for ourselves, being honest, acceptance, etc

Crisis is an appetite for growth

“I don't know how I would've ever gotten well if i hadn't gotten ill”

Breakdown breaks us from status quo

Being Out of Touch With One’s Feelings:

Trouble coming from us being out of touch with our feelings

How do we not know what we feel?

It is hard for us to detect our feelings

We are conflicted with what is acceptable and what is not

We are influenced to believe certain emotions are not okay

Sexist based

Culturally based

Societal

We are not meant to feel to fit into images

When difficult feeling come, it is hard for us to become accountable to what is going on 

Powerful feelings become swept under the rug and are deemed as bad

Small instances can erupt our feelings of upset exposes fragility and insecurity, therefore the emotions grown and become more intense 

Feelings unattended to become full blown addictions

How to combat?

Become open minded

Listen to ourselves with self reflection/ idle moments

Allow time for feelings to come out

Very recently, I have a patient who has been becoming cognitively impaired. He was one of my first patients ever since I started, and I’ve always had very positive experiences with him. He was kind, witty, and always looking to make us laugh and our day easier. I was always empathizing with him, he sat for hours in our treatment chair, and then sat for hours in our lobby when his nursing home would forget to pick him up; and yet, he always made sure that he wanted to highlight the work that we do, even though he had tough days. Our conversations were like that of a grandparent with their grandchild. I knew of every lover he had, what his life looked like as a young adult, and what burdens him. He was a musician and played jazz all over the world. Everyday, we were greeted by his Hawaiian shirts, and bright smiles underneath a straw hat. Until one day, he missed treatment, and then another, and then a week passed, and before I knew it he was hospitalized for a month. When he came back, he was different. His witness dulled, his Hawaiian shirts changed into the same worn sweatshirt with new stains multiplying everyday, he sat quiet in the chair, and sat silently watching each car pass by, hoping it would be his nursing home. Then came the treatments, he would miss them and come back agitated, irritated, and angry. He became manic, getting furious when his ride would come so late, so he started to wander the streets. Since then we had to watch him, to make sure that he was safe because of his confusion. Missing treatments means that more toxins enter your blood, and therefore confusion tends to come with it. Some days he comes in just like who he was when I first had him, and then we don't see him for days, and he's back at square one. Recently, he was mentally stable, and so I was so happy to be delighted to dive into a conversation with him about ukuleles and jazz. So, the next treatment he had, I brought in a ukulele I haven’t touched in months due to work. He was back to his confusion the day I brought the ukulele in, but I was determined. After slowly re-orienting him, I started playing all the tunes we had talked about. I saw how the light that I used to see, started to glow again in his eyes, and soon enough he started singing along with me. At the end he said, “Hey, we talked about these songs!” I was amazed. I just played 4-6 songs for him, and all of a sudden he could remember. He started laughing again, and now every Saturday is our ukulele day. 

https://youtu.be/V-kMLV0-XJE

Here is one of the songs that I sang for my patient !

 Notes on “The Burnout Society”

• An animal must multi task, “lest it be eaten while eating”

• An animal can  not completely focus on the task at hand, they are always thinking of many other things

• Cultures tend to believe in full focus on one thing, but in reality we are hyperattentive

• “deep boredom a ‘dream bird that hatches the egg of experience.’”

• “Deep boredom is the peak of mental relaxation”

• Restlessness in boredom will lead to productivity and creating

• To hectically rush production only pushes the creation on what is already being made, rather than creation of something new

• Those who tolerate boredom, will push and push until they find something new

Notes on Bernard Williams from, “Philosophical Views on Boredom”

• “He thinks of boredom as indifference, detachment, coldness, and inner death”

• Believes that boredom is the enemy to life, that such lengths of boredom can drive someone to suicide

• Being bored means we are not seeking deeper meaning, that we are not reflecting and thinking on our lives

• Boredom is immoral, and inhumane

• Boredom is equivalent to human failure

  
  
  

Unplug for a Day - A Quarantine PTSD

First off, I took notes through my day as if I had a journal, and here are my initial thoughts and concerns: A, as my family lives far away, I keep in contact with them daily, calling several times a day; B, my boyfriend and I of 2.5 years are in a long distance relationship, and I don't think there has been a day where we haven’t communicated in some shape way or form; and C, my work place tends to call me frequently as I am most of the time, “on-call”. So right from the get-go, my heart is full of dread, as I already know I am drastically changing my routine and that my anxiety for how my family members and loved ones are doing will sky rocket. I told my family and boyfriend what was going on so that they wouldn’t worry, and to call me in an emergency– but still my heart was so anxious to be out of contact with them for even a day. Nonetheless, I felt an obligation to fully commit to this experiment.

Starting off with my morning, I noticed the first thing I did as I woke up was to literally just contemplate life. I woke up, but laid in my bed for a hot minute, and I just let my thoughts roll. I worried about my family, until my brain trailed all the way to a plan for the day. Eventually, I left the comfort of my bed to go up and be productive. In my routine, I was able to pay a lot more attention to detail. Washing my face in the morning wasn’t a quick hit-and-run, but rather I was able to do a whole routine. My skin feels so fresh, I was able to do face masks and even whiten my teeth! I will say, it was hard to do this without music, but I was so invested in myself that I just focused on perfecting the steps.

I had a very fruitful day, I swam, taught my dad to swim, and sang a whole bunch. Really, these are activities I love doing, but I just never allow myself time to do them. This experience was like quarantine all over again, the comfort of electronics and my bed could only take me so far until I became so desperate that I did activities out of my norm. In my situation, it is quite hard to minimize my phone due to my own personal duties, but I am enlightened and considering limiting the time spent on my electronics. Creative Section: Very happily, I was able to dedicate my time to painting some more. I'm really happy that in this class I get to showcase my creations as I hardly sit down and work on something that I'm proud of. Here is a quick little sketch on one of my favorite animated films, "Ponyo" by Hayato Miyazaki from Studio Ghibli

Hero's Journey Blog

 Angelica Pono

Hero’s Journey

Crash Course Mythology:

• Hero’s are EVERYWHERE! All cultures and places have hero stories
• What makes a hero?
• Villains, role model,
• Joseph Campbell: Monomyth of Hero
• (sadly) male appearance due to joseph’s male dominated ideas
• Developed “the hero’s journey” to read through hero stories
• We as humans want to be heroes, struggling to find our place in society
• Followed many theorists like carl jung, sigmund freud, otto runk
• From this, he drew the highlight on the mother figure (sigman) and parental relationship to a hero
• Reading heroes as psychological journey that humans go through
• Hero myths from psyche, following monomyth, 3 part, 17 subparts
• PART ONE: Separation
• The call to adventure
• Refusal of the call
• Supernatural aid
• Crossing the threshold
• PART TWO: TRIALS AND VICTORIES OF INITIATION
• The belly of the whale
• The road of trials
• Meeting with the goddess
• Woman as temptress
• Atonement with father
• Apotheosis
• The ultimate boon
• Refusal to the return
• Part THREE: the return
• The magic flight
• Rescue from without
• Crossing the return threshold
• Master of the two worlds
• Freedom to live
• 7 girls, hunger pain and fear, tell elders they'll do whatever it takes
• 3 years isolated from brothers and sisters
• Each day is a sunrise and sunset meal, at the end of year is a week-long journey, walk for 3 more days, roasted kangaroo, and a knife to eat what they need. They cut the same size of their meals and therefore conquer is hunger
• Pain: front teeth broken, breasts cut, ashes, noses pierced, sleeping on ant hill, no more pain 
• Fear: tell them scary stories, and scare them through the night, they are able to do it
• How does it reflect on us? 
• The Matrix
• PART ONE: Separation
• Call to adventure: Neo’s computer has message inviting him to the matrix via the white rabbit
• Refusal of the call: Main Lead received invite from someone with white rabbit tattoo, and follows, and becomes unsure to follow journey
• Supernatural aid: Morpheus helping neo see the world with the pill
• Crossing the threshold: ?, meeting morpheus/Nebuchadnezzar….?
• PART TWO: TRIALS AND VICTORIES OF INITIATION
• The belly of the whale: not applicable
• The road of trials: After meeting the Nebuchadnezzar the tests he goes through
• Meeting with the goddess
• Woman as temptress: The oracle? 
• Atonement with father: Morpheus calling Neo, “the One”?
• Apotheosis: trinity falling in love with neo, and becoming full powered
• The ultimate boon
• Refusal to the return
• Part THREE: the return
• The magic flight
• Rescue from without
• Crossing the return threshold
• Master of the two worlds: Neo saving humans in the matrix
• Freedom to live

                           

Reflection Section - Minimum of 350 words:

As a whole, Joseph Campbell’s analysis of, “The Hero’s Journey” is intriguing the way he designed the monomyth, by reflecting on the creators of these stories themselves. Joseph looked at theorists like Carl Jung and Sigman Freud to analyze the pattern of a “hero story”. That makes this concept very applicable to reflect human lives. We as people view our life to be that of a quest, a journey. It’s as though we look up to a story where the person would be able to complete mundane quests at high risk levels; for example, The Lord Of The Rings— bring a ring to a volcano. These myths are parallel to more realistic issues, painting our problems in a romanticized, fable-like view.  

A theory similar to, “the Hero’s Journey”, would be, “Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs”. With this, we can look at these concepts and see at what point in our life would we be placed on, “The Hero’s Journey”. 

In my own life, I recently moved here which was a big change for me.  Initially, I wasn’t able to socialize properly because my classes were online, and so, I felt a lack of challenge, of aspiration to better myself. Looking at Maslow’s Hierarchy, we can see that my areas of  safety, love, esteem, and self-actualization are lacking. In that sense, I would have just accepted the invitation to the new world, and now I am facing my trials and tests. From this, I am able to think of the future, and what it may look like for me. My next step in life would be meeting a goddess/facing a temptress or atonement to father/apotheosis. With specific emphasis on Sigman Freud’s theories, I would be seeking parental acceptance. As I am becoming an adult, I am making choices and experiences to further my maturation. With that, I hope to become an acceptable adult by my parents, that they approve of what their lessons and views have made me. Those tests and trials are there to show my parents my choices, in hopes that they agree to the pathway I am choosing. 

 

Creative Expression Section

During the period of my trials, this is a water color painting I did to reflect what I was feeling. I felt like I was facing so many things at once, that each new trial just kept weighing down on me. I feel like it would be interesting to continue to view my art like an insight in to my unconscious, and to determine the emotions I am experiencing during each stage of the Hero's Journey.