Cleanse Kula Memories

Soooo cute!

Pygmalion 21st Century Style

As I was driving to work this morning, I had the radio turned to a radio station that I do not frequent, and I heard an ad for plastic surgery. That's right, a radio advertisement for becoming the "best you" you can be. I laughed derisively when I realized what was being suggested. Then, my mind immediately went to Africa. Why would plastic surgery make me think of Africa? Well, because I am preparing to go to Africa on May 17, and I have been planning how to pack, what kinds of gifts to take for the Africans I meet, and how to deal with the emotional impact of spending time in Rwanda post genocide. So, the fact that in this country one can pay to have fat removed while in other places food is a luxury is particularly striking right now. The idea that one would spend her money to get bigger breasts to impress a man (the ad included men talking about how their wives were now returned to their former confident selves by having breast "enhancement") and suddenly all problems disappear just seems wrong on so many levels.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that because parts of our world do not have the technology and infrastructure that we have in the United States, we should feel guilty or not avail ourselves of it. That's not it at all. What I am saying is that I believe we have so much capability, so much excess, that we create needs. While women and men in this country have always been body conscious (witness "Muscular Christianity" in the late 18th and early 19th century), they did not always have the opportunity to pay a surgeon to give them a body wholly new and different from the original. What does it mean to be able to buy the body you want? What does it do to the meaning of living within this body to see it as infinitely malleable and capable of being improved upon with technology? What happens to us when we buy the bodies we want and still find that we haven't become the people we want to be?

New breasts or a trip to a place in the world that might open me up to parts of myself, parts of humanity, that I've yet to explore -- I know which I think is the better way to spend my money and time. And my yoga practice has taught me that the body I have, while maybe not the body the magazines tell me I should want, is beautiful in its own way and capable of housing and hosting the Infinite Self. No human intervention to change the surface look comes even close to the wonder of that fact...

My Sentient Riley (an 11 year old mini-dachsund)

I love those inspirational stories about animals connecting with people, but I never thought I'd experience one like this myself. A few days ago Paul (husband) and Abby (daughter) went out of town for a long weekend, which meant I was the only pair of eyes and hands caring for my playful 3-year old twins, Nicholas & Sam. Or so I thought.

The boys and I were all enjoying the warm sunshine outdoors in the backyard. They were gravitating near and around the swing set. I decided to run indoors for a brief MOMENT--can't even remember for what now. As usual I got distracted and the moment turned into moments when I heard my dog frantically whining at the back door. I thought, "Oh he just wants to come in because I am". He was unusally persistent and his whining becaming much louder. I quickly went to check it out and glanced to the swing set. No boys in sight! I then checked the backyard gates and sure enough, one of them was wide open. I ran through the house to the front to get to the front yard as quick as possible and there they were, standing at the edge of the driveway. Nicholas was actually a foot into the street, with his daring mischevious gleam.

After firmly directing the escapees inside I realized the magnitude of what just happened. Any other given opportunity of the back gates being flung open, my sweet Riley would normally run out to the front yard just as the boys had. But this time he didn't. Instead, he sensed the danger for them and in his own way worked very hard to get my distracted attention. I am grateful beyond words.

My connection with Riley began as love at first sight and only evolved into what some of my extended family members just couldn't understand--but accepted. I often joked that there is a part of my (deceased) mother in him. He has loved me like no other! He has been dedicated to me, eagerly wanting to be near me where ever I go. Surviving 3 toddlers is no easy feat and he's been gracious at accepting the "intruders" of his space.

I believe my relationship with him simply reinforces the abilities of animals to care, love and protect their human companions. How blessed we are!