The Big and the Small

So, I have picked up a book that I started reading last year. It is a book on cosmology and quantum theory. I know, my geek is showing, but hang with me, this stuff is really incredible. What I love about it is how beautiful these theories are, how elegant and poetic.
I was at the Tonhalle with some friends last week, listening to beautiful music, created by living beings in a building that has contained music and living beings for hundreds of years. As we basked in the reverberations of those thoughts, one of my friends brought up a program she had watched on black holes and cosmology. We commented on the huge impact that these thoughts have on our understanding of ourselves as living conscious beings. A day later I came upon a passage in this book, entitled Parallel Worlds.

"Ever since the Greeks, philosophers have speculated that the ultimate building blocks of matter might be made of tiny particles called atoms. Today with our powerful atom smashers and particle accelerators, we can break apart the atom itself into electrons and nuclei, which in turn can be broken into even smaller subatomic particles. But instead of finding an elegant and simple framework, it was distressing to find that there were hundreds of subatomic particles streaming from our accelerators, with strange names like neutrinos, quarks, mesons, leptons, hadrons, gluons, W-bosons, and so forth. it is hard to believe that nature, at its most fundamental level, could create a confusing jungle of bizarre subatomic particles.

String theory and M-theory are based on the simple and elegant idea that the bewildering variety of subatomic particles making up the universe are similar to the notes that one can play on a violin string, or on a membrane such as a drum head. (These are no ordinary strings and membranes; they exist in ten- and elevendimensional hyperspace.)
Traditionally, physicists viewed electrons as being point particles, which were infinitesimally small. This meant that physicists had to introduce a different point particle for each of the hundreds of subatomic particles they found, which was very confusing. But according to string theory, if we had a supermicroscope that could peer into the heart of an electron, we would see that it was not a point particle at all but a tiny vibrating string. It only appeared to be a point particle because our instruments were too crude.
This tiny string, in turn, vibrates at different frequencies and resonances. If we were to pluck this vibrating string, it would change mode and become another subatomic particle, such as a quark. Pluck it again, and it turns into a neutrino. In this way, we can explain the blizzard of subatomic particles as nothing but different musical notes of the string. We can now replace the hundreds of subatomic particles seen in the laboratory with a single object, the string.In this new vocabulary, the laws of physics, carefully constructed after thousands of years of experimentation, are nothing but the laws of harmony one can write down for strings and membranes. The laws of chemistry are the melodies that one can play on these strings. The universe is a symphony of strings. And the "Mind of God," which Einstein wrote eloquently about, is cosmic music resonating throughout hyperspace."

Such beauty! I am struck by how the glimmers of understanding that I get from this science enhance my appreciation of music, art, nature. It inspires me to write, to create and to value the precious gift that this life and this time is to us.
Today I watched an interview that Stephen Colbert did with Neil deGrasse Tyson, an astrophysicist. I love what this guy has to say about science and politics and history. Near the end he talks about how to inspire children to learn more about their world, and I think he is right on target. It is a long interview, but well worth the time.

Interview with Neil deGrasse Tyson

Early Stirrings

So I woke up this morning, made my probiotic grapefruit-lemon-ginger juice, started the dishwasher and put a sweater on to let the little furry man out for his morning pee.
I got to the bottom of the stairs, braced myself for the hated cold stone tiles, and opened the door for him. Standing in the doorway, balanced on one foot for warmth I looked out on the still-frozen world.
On the bare branches of a bush, right in front of me, a tiny bright European robin appeared; like a foreign ambassador sent to deliver a message. He cocked his head to the side and looked right at me, hopped to another branch and did the same. His actions were almost clownish, but there was a deep seriousness in that eye he turned upon me.
The European robin is not as big as our American variety, and not quite as brightly colored. He was dressed in a more subtle old-world style. He is about the size of a sparrow, with a rusty colored breast, a touch of blue just under the wings, and a bright and piercing eye.
Even though Sumo was snuffing all around, the little bird didn't show any fear. He just continued to look quite pointedly at me as I stood shivering in the doorway. A slow smile crept upon me as I stood there watching him.
Sumo finished his business and noisily bustled inside, clattering up the steps. I stood there a moment longer with that smile on my face. I thanked him, turned to close the door and he flitted off.

I love my work

Yeah, I know....totally cheesy, but it is true. Especially in the last few months, when my personal life has been in such a state of turmoil, it has been a tiny island of light and positive energy for me. Each morning I enter my classroom and see all these beautiful little beings, so busy with their formation, growing and learning and changing right before my eyes. I am grateful and honored every day to be a part of that.

In my classroom just now we are working on a project that I really just stumbled into, but has turned out to be one of the best and most wide-ranging projects I have ever done with children. It all started with a desire to bring more discussion about families and culture and the differences between the ways that people live together.

I was reading a book and we started a discussion with the question, "What are people?" Giggles all around from the kids at first, but really a fascinating discussion, ranging from biological characteristics to social behavior and beliefs. From there I decided to focus on culture, and go from continent to continent. We started with North America. Some of the children wanted to do some more reading, and I offered them the suggestion of doing projects, group work. They came up with the most awesome topics, for instance, Jazz and Blues, New York City, Native American Art, Aztec culture, Caribbean music, and Mountains of North America. I was so impressed with the great topics they came up with. We decided to have a party after the projects were finished, and present our research, eat North American food, and listen to North American music. Fun :)

Another change I have made this year that has been as nurturing for me as it has been for the children, is the focus on more art lessons. I have been learning and experiencing right alongside them, and I really see a huge enrichment from the expansion of this aspect of the curriculum. We have done work with watercolor, and fiber art, and now we are making woven beaded jewelry (Native American inspired).

My first few years here were so difficult professionally, but I am recognizing now that they pushed me to be a better, more flexible teacher. I am reaping the benefits of having seen those years out, and now I can really use the new confidence and skills I learned.

I can't wait for spring, and growing things with the kids!

Considering Love and Loss

Most of you know, I have had a year of incredible change. In the last year, I have gone through the most intense emotional experiences of my life. I am now in sort of the denouement of this experience, trying to look at the deconstructed pieces of my self and my life and decide how I can put them together into something whole again.

The other day I was walking with Sumo in the farmland near my apartment, and was thinking (again) over the experiences of the last year, and the loss, and the changes, and how the hell to move on. I had (as I do occasionally these days) a little glimmer of hope, a whisper from my heart that it could be whole, that I will love again. Almost immediately I felt terrible.

Why, I asked myself?

Because, to heal from love feels somehow like a denial of the love that came before, almost a dual tragedy, of loss and recovery. Or maybe it is simply a testament of the miraculous capacity of the heart, to continue to give and love.

I realized then that to accept the healing, one must truly let go of the hope that the love will survive. And of course, if it is real love, it will always be there in some form, but my heart is crying now for the "big" love I have lost, the partnership, the intimate connection with another soul.

So Sumo and I walked on, and my thoughts ranged over the events of my life, other changes I have gone through, other hardships endured. Though none compare, it gave me a bit of solace, the knowledge that I have felt before the pain of having to let go. Like a piece of my very self was torn from me and forever lost.

What I know from those other times is that with the destruction comes new growth, always. I have been turned down a path that I never would have willingly tread, but if I walk it with honesty, with faith in love, and in the goodness and power of life itself I believe I will be whole, and I hope that I will find happiness and fulfillment.


“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Rumi