Groan

As we go through the process of acquiring resources, we can see the worst of who we are.
I hold my Styrofoam cup of coffee and feel a pang at the pit of my stomach as I realize I'm caught in this animal kingdom.

Posted by ruth at November 18, 2002 01:25 PM

Comments

Acquring resources?
I had just read a story on your company's former owner, I think, and a "transition" to new leadership. You're in my thoughts.
Things are downright wacky where I work also, with a new boss and an entirely new staff that he brought with him. I'm not sure what the future holds either. My Styrofoam cup's getting a good squeeze too.
Posted by: Ryan on November 24, 2002 03:33 PM

Hey,
Thanks for the prayers.
I do not refer to my company but I can see where it can be perceived that way based on my very abstract, (intentionally) vague statements.
I've been working off-site for a few months. An eye-opening experience, which brought about this most recent entry.
Suddenly, I find that I am lucky that my place of employment is relatively healthy. Morale is higher than most places given the current economic condition, and people at least attempt to have an attitude of teamwork and support. It's not always perfect, but, hell, after what I've seen, I can't ever complain again.
At one point, I'll have to write out all my ideas about this somewhere. I have lots of questions.
Thanks for checking in, Ryan. Sorry I haven't been keeping up w/ all that's being posted on HawaiiStories.com. I haven't on-line very consistently.
Take care,
Ruth



Posted by: ruth on November 24, 2002 06:14 PM

Ruth, Happy Thanksgiving!
Posted by: kane on November 28, 2002 08:28 AM

Ruth, hoping you are well.
I do miss your writings & shared thoughts.
Posted by: kane on December 7, 2002 03:55 AM

Merry Christmas.
Posted by: kane on December 25, 2002 01:32 PM

Mele Kalikimaka, Ruth.
Posted by: Ryan on December 26, 2002 10:55 AM

Lost in Sent Email

I went through old "sent items" e-mails in the year 2001, trying to find a link I had embededded in an e-mail (a UH Manoa Web site that was rather obscure -- it's the page that contains classifieds for faculty). I felt like I was wading through sludge.

Last year, I was changing quickly, and awkwardly so. I was naive about how ungracious others could be. I spilled myself open to the wrong people. Innocent, sincere words. Idealistic, giddy. And the receivers found themselves in near disgust when it was all said and done. It was a tough year, not for any outwardly visible reasons, but for the storms I braved within. And seeing my e-mails again made my stomach turn. I couldn't help but be sickened by naivete.

And for awhile, I didn't want to have such "honest moments." People often prefer less emotion, less vulnerability. They want "clever." They want "intelligent." They want "sophisticated and elegant." They want to see the outside, really, since the inside is jiggly and gushy. The outside makes no threats and is lovely to look at. The inside is unwieldy and always bypasses the eyes as it sends an uncomfortable electric shock to the gut. People don't like that. Reminds them of themselves.

So, I've picked up a skill these days for outside things. These days, I'm "selectively naive."

Now, if I can only find that Web link ...

Posted by ruth at November 04, 2002 08:43 AM

Straws

I wish I could pull you out from the fluorescent light
Away from the hum of industrial voltage that surrounds you.
I wish I could remove you from the pushpins on grey walls
And from the silly words you bicker over
And from your need to say only right things
And from days you must wear your shirt that way.
Let's order chocolate milk
And drink every last drop from a straw.

Posted by ruth at October 21, 2002 10:49 PM

Comments

I'm so happy to see that you have returned. You were missed.
Posted by: kane on October 22, 2002 01:43 AM

Striking. And yeah, we missed you!
Posted by: Ryan on October 23, 2002 12:52 AM

Twin Turns

Naomi and I are twins. A year ago, I had a good friend spurn me. This year, it's Naomi's turn to be spurned. I'm angry, since I see Naomi's pain daily. I remember what it was like. But I look at the person Naomi will become because of this pain. I have become a new person, and so will she.

Posted by ruth at October 02, 2002 09:57 PM

Comments

It's amazing what strengthens us and stimulates the process of growth. Some of the same things we see as impossible to overcome, are oftentimes looked upon later as our greatest gifts.
Posted by: kane on October 5, 2002 08:09 AM

You haven't written a post in a while; I hope all is well.
Posted by: kane on October 12, 2002 03:34 PM

But Seriously

When I became an adult, I suddenly learned that I'm not supposed to take anything too seriously.
I'd rather be a kid.

Posted by ruth at October 01, 2002 12:47 PM

Comments

didn't anyone ever tell you that you don't have to be an adult?
Posted by: tyd on October 14, 2002 08:12 PM

When Eating Kim Chee

When eating kim chee,
Make sure you know what you're getting into.
If not, you might be surprised
By unwanted trips to mundane places
And you can't control yourself
Because it controls you.
Red flecks are exciting for a moment
The way they swirl and swirl
In your mouth and through your chest
But you do end up paying.
So, when eating kim chee,
Make sure you know what you're getting into.

Posted by ruth at September 23, 2002 06:51 PM

Comments

Ruth, this is a wonderfully fun poem. Perhaps this should be written on each jar of Kim Chee like a surgeon general warning.
Posted by: kane on September 24, 2002 1:52 AM

Kane,
I'm glad you got humor out of this poem. Interestingly enough, I wrote it when I was really pissed off. If you read it again with that in mind, you might sense my deep resentment.
But, as is always the case with life, even the things that upset you can draw up the greatest laughs. Anyone who reads this poem will react as you did, with laughter, and this is a nice, sobering thought.
Thanks for laughing with me.
Ruth
Posted by: Ruth on September 24, 2002 12:58 PM

I was just browsing your site when I saw the comment section. I remember the first time I ate Kim Chee!! It was 1966 in a tower in Qui Nhon, Vietnam, guarding our runway when it hit me. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what I mean by that. I did have to warn that poor soldier who had to climb that latter and relieve me of my post later that night though. I was stationed with the Korean Tiger Division. They use to get Kim Chee in 50 gallon plastic bags. We always knew (smell) when they would get a fresh batch in. I make the best Kim Chee in the world because I was taught how to make it by the Korean Soldiers themselves!! I've been making it and perfecting it for almost 40 years now. I wished you could taste some. It's absolutely breathtaking.
Posted by: W.K. Sullivan on November 6, 2003 5:35 AM

Sorry, I've spelled Ladder wrong in my comments.
Posted by: W.K. Sullivan on November 6, 2003 5:39 AM

The Man Upstairs

The man upstairs is dying.

Just several weeks ago, his doctor told him he has between two and six months to live. It wasn't very long ago when I'd see him watering the yard.

Mr. M is a retired hapa haole man who looks straight out of a Reyn's commercial. He's managed to raise a beautiful family and be with his wife all these years.

But the weeds in the yard are growing. And this morning, instead of seeing him standing in the yard with his khaki walk shorts and aloha shirt, I see another man who rode to our house in a Toyota truck with oversized wheels. He's got a cap on and a dirty T-shirt, workboots and a towel around his face. A professional.

Sometimes at night, Mr. M's coughs are so loud and strong, the sound seeps below to our apartment. Mrs. M has taken leave to be with Mr. M, and I can only imagine her getting up to give him water or get him a towel or feed him or bathe him or change his clothes.

And still, everyone else's life goes on as usual. I still put my makeup on in the morning the same way. I listen my new Rich Crandall Jazz Trio CD. I still worry about the documents I need to write at work. I choose which dress shoes to wear from a white plastic shoe rack.

All this, while the man upstairs is dying.

Posted by ruth at September 19, 2002 08:01

Comments

It's too bad that you can't get a piano upstairs so that the man could listen to you play. Your music has a way of reaching the soul. If you have a recording of your music, a gift of your songs would surely soothe and calm him.
Posted by: kane on September 20, 2002 05:42 PM

Kane,
Thank you again for your thoughtfulness and kind words. Sometimes I refrain from playing since music can open up deep, deep wounds. I think I'll begin to sense when the time is right to share or simply keep my distance.
I'll keep you posted.
Ruth
Posted by: Ruth on September 20, 2002 06:19 PM