the tips of my toes are balanced on marble steps
through the soles of my shoes
and in the air is that particular perfume
of Persian roses and cloudy skies.
Today, outside my apartment.

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I thought I was prepared. I had the box of cereal ready, and I remembered that I had strawberries in the fridge. I casually open the fridge to get the milk…

horrors! NO MILK!

So instead I feasted on some hummus and cheese with chips. For breakfast. haha.

——————————–Interesting topic at lunch today: What motivates people in the workplace? Some would say money, but of course we know that it is so much more than that. And then you take a unique place like the Baha’i World Centre (where I am serving), where people come to serve, not to climb the corporate ladder or start a company.How do we motivate the people around us in the workplace? People usually think of motivation in a “top-down” approach: that is, the upper levels of an organization use incentives of some kind to coax employees to work at a certain level. But what happens when employees take an active role in managing the people they report to? When they explain to their managers how they work best? When working on a team, do we take the time to figure out each other’s styles of project management or personal interaction? ——————————–I am now halfway through The Tipping Point, started Reading Lolita in Tehran, and about 1/3 of the way through Muhammad and the Course of Islam. I am having so much fun reading these books. I think I will want to read the last one a second time, since I feel like I’m getting the story, but not enough to explain to people.

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One thing they don’t tell you about Haifa is its lack of good Mexican food. You can find decent Thai food, which is a relief.

But after having lived near Pilsen and the amazing little taquerias that are scattered around Chicago, it is nearly heartbreaking to realize that you can barely find a restaurant that serves such delicious menu items that cause you to sweat grease for days. mmm.

My friends back home in the States (yeah, I call it “the States”. I also call my apartment “my flat” and am switching over to “flatmates” from “roomies”) think I’m crazy to be missing Taco Bell, but really I miss everything on the range from that to Nuevo Leon.

I actually don’t eat out much here. It is relaxing to cook at home, and I have so much more control over what I eat that way.

———
So I picked out my next book to read: Muhammad and the Course of Islam by Hasan Balyuzi.

Also, I still can’t believe this is where I work every day:

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I think I’m writing again but not speaking in every sense of the term. Speaking in the words that make sense to me and you if you could hear what I was saying to you. Every time I stare at the ceiling I see spiderwebs in the corners of my eyes and the movement in still air is mesmerizing.

Why are spiderwebs so good for evocative imagery of stickiness? Is it because they are a common experience to us, we can all relate to webs and spiders and strands and the cliche of “connectedness”?

Now I’m tired of spiderwebs and I’m looking for something else to take on.

There were words in my dreams, and I could read them so clearly that I felt them burned into my eyes…but now they fade and I am left with tattered scratches. Unmarking the places where the pieces and halves were dropped, I feel my spirit sinking and floating.

I drank in the sun and the sound of the rocks under my boots and the faint laughter drifting between cyprus trees, and let the smile on my face loose for the first time in a while. The walls are starting to crumble in this space.

This is joy.

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I was feeling rather scattered about the books I’ve been reading while I’ve been in Haifa, and wanted it all in one place. I feel like it is easier to read here…I don’t have the distraction of tv & internet at home, especially. I was shocked to realize that I’d read 80 pages last night over the course of a few hours.

Any suggestions for my next book? I’m trying to think ahead…I’m getting a copy of The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell (thanks Leila!), but I need a Baha’i book to read at the same time.

Currently reading:

Barron Harper: Lights of Fortitude (First Edition)Read in the last 1-1/2 months:

Ugo Giachery: Shoghi Effendi: Recollections

Shoghi Effendi: God Passes By

David Ruhe: Door of Hope

Larry Niven: N-Space, Destiny’s Road

Marion Zimmer Bradley: The Fall of Atlantis

Philippa Gregory: The Other Boleyn Girl

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The fascination with darkness is nothing new.
There are no stories or poems left
In the spaces between lights flickering madly.
This is a promise, in a way.
The only darkness that was left was between stars,
And that was too far to know.
The beauty in darkness is its contrast with light,
The way prayers are chanted under a dome,
The way anything is allowed under the guise of mistakes,
Under the comforting blanket of a certainty that darkness
Is now the realm of the beloved.
Bahji garden, Saturday January 13th, 2007

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The whole issue of Shabbat is one that is quite perplexing. Namely, the shops are closed during our weekend.

Ah well, it isn’t too much of an issue. We can still buy stuff when we need to.

My intention is to explore, but the weather is a deterrent. Either rain or “cold” (nowhere near Chicago’s bone-chilling weather, but still…). I also prefer to have exploring companions. I’m still getting used to calling people here and asking if they want to do something. Part of me feels like I may be bothering people because everyone is so busy…classes, study circles, etc. I’ve deliberately kept my schedule relatively clear because I know how easy it is to get burned out.

Culture shock is not yet an issue for me. Everyone at work and home speak English, as do most of the taxi drivers. I am in a different place, but it felt like home after the first day. I want to explore because I dislike feeling like a tourist in the place I live.

One month down, 17 to go, and I am loving my job every day. Even things that used to bore me at other jobs are now exciting.

Being in the Holy Land really inspires me to read. I go through phases where I want to read a whole lot, and then times when reading any non-fiction makes me tired. I’ll be finishing “God Passes By” by Shoghi Effendi this weekend and moving on to “Shoghi Effendi: Recollections” by Ugo Giachery (which I’ve already started, about 30 pages in). I haven’t decided what book will be after that.

I walked into the glass doors of the cafeteria last week. To be fair, the whole wall is practically glass, and I had turned to see if the group was following. *bang* Luckily, I didn’t get hurt, I just started laughing.

And now, the weekend.

“Morning comes in the dream before we rise…” – Sunny Day Real Estate

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I wrote this poem at the last open mic I attended in Chicago. I wanted to perform but I had nothing with me, so I wrote it at the last minute.

11/17/06

There are things surrounding me
Pizza boxes and old records
movie ticket stubs and museum passes.
There are so many things,
so many past lives, or maybe
just my past life,
the people I tried to leave behind.
My feet are buried in the trash can contents
and I’m trying desperately hard to be content.

I’ve got dusty books and candy bars in wrappers,
scratched cds and sorry-looking teddy bears.
I never thought to wade into the past,
into my soul.
My sole purpose was shocking myself into action,
to push myself into submission.

This path used to be silent,
these ways used to be mine alone and I struggled
to get home.
I am up to my knees in my past life,
of our lives built together,
each and every one fills a trash can.

I told the universe I could,
that I would and was willing.
I told the world my soul was strong
but that my heart was not ready.
I told this city I was ready to leave and
thank God that I finally listened to me.
I told you everything, I told her the stories in my life,
and he listened with everything in his being.

What will always be you to me, you:
this street, this place on the corner,
the convenience store that sells Indian food
in Little Italy.
The pieces of places and the peace I found
when I finally moved home.

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like the stories I used to tell to myself
there are messages hidden for them to find
hiding under tables and the ways I look out the window
on long car rides.

secrets are tied up in my lips
in the words I speak, the way I write
the things I see.

see you in the mirror next to me
the duplication of all the ways we may never be,
aftertime maybe we’ll allow the weakness to show.

———————————————————–

Gardens at Bahji, January 6th, 2007

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I hate to see you cry
Lying there in that position
There’s things you need to hear
So turn off your tears
And listenPain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No it won’t all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good

You know, it’s nothing new
Bad news never had good timing
But, then your circle of friends
Will defend the silver lining…

-John Mayer, “Heart of Life”

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