Dorian Dorey Rhodes: Momma

Showing posts with label Momma. Show all posts

All The Best

“Bon Anniversaire, Ma Mère”

An ability to see beyond the pale,
Recognizing hope in the shadows,
Trusting first and foremost in love;
Questioning allows for discovery –
An independent view of the world,
Finding wonder in unlikely nooks,
Taking refuge in discovered beauty;
Aesthetic purpose is proven worthy.

Not simply to be sought but created,
Via means personal and miraculous,
Through more than possible alone;
More than creation from only within –
Not just given but allowed in as well,
Born both of intention and request,
Granted as journey and destination;
Nothing but children can encompass.

The innate art in all that is organic,
Exists as fact as well as fulfillment,
Internal naïveté becomes a choice;
With childlike wonder thus achieved –
The need to be and have a child met,
So an inherent wisdom is imparted,
For beauty infuses all said and seen;
Thus self-doubt may stand idly by.

All hesitance is ever more in check,
Seeking truth rather than reasons,
Knowing order exists despite chaos;
Choosing inspiration over defeat –
All is perceived with a loving heart,
Becoming more complete every day,
Fostering creations formed and found;
Artistry that goes beyond the page.

© Dorian Dorey Rhodes 24 January 2008

All the best. by Ari Baker

She’s described me as her alter-ego and she’s my inner compass; we’ve never had it easy but we’ve always had each other. Her love is not only unconditional but unwavering, and her acceptance is as complete as it is encouraging. With bravery summoned in shared nooks, and hope conjured from their many books, it was the two of us “against the world” and we’re still at it – finding our truest selves together. Persistent artist; consistent friend; insistent creative; her inherent appreciation of artistry in all its forms keeps me inspired* and forever young:

“It takes time to grow young.”

— Pablo Picasso

“She finds happiness in whatever happiness I meet, she understands what I understand and why I understand it, she prays for me even when I pray for no one but myself, she sees all the beauty I tell her I see and delights in it through my eyes. That is my mother. She would give me the whole world if she could gather it in her arms. That is why she will never have the whole world in her arms; that is why she will always have the whole of my love.”

— Philippos Aristotelous

*This poem even inspired its own offspring, giving birth to a Mother’s Day poem.

The Dorey Constant

I was your little shadow

Before reaching equity with Momma
Or recognizing my soul in Grandma
There was you

What could’ve been treated as tagging along
Used instead as a chance for me to belong
There with you

Anything done had fun to be found within
Nothing was mundane, especially when
There were two

You were my first best friend

Tasks as games, errands became adventures
Logic as puzzles, bedtime stories offered cures
Walks as archaeology, flies were fishing lures

I was your little brown eyes

Leaving me no doubt I was exceptional
While ensuring everyone felt special
That was you

Peacemaker who took everything in stride
Supportive, and confident without pride
That is you

Finding hope with a quiet determination
Knowing letting go may be the solution
That’s me too

You were my universal constant

© Dorian Dorey Rhodes 31 July 2014

The sign outside my grandparents’ mountain home displayed my family name

Being able to say “me too” when it comes to my grandparents reassures me that I’m part and parcel of their living legacy.* Those two simple words keep me connected to them, and specifically remind me that Granddad loved “me too.” That deceptively simple phrase was how he responded to “I love you” when one of his girls called him at work. Although he was clearly just keeping things professional, there was a sense that he felt too deeply to risk getting personal. He warned me any time I cried that, if I continued, he’d join me. Seeing me cry was enough to make him cry, and not saying “love” at the office hinted at the real possibility his voice might crack if he let himself say it. He laid the foundation for the most important lesson Grandma taught me, that our choices also affect those who love us. My Granddad was the first father I ever knew, and the best man I could ever hope to know. He exemplified what it was to be a good man yet not by being a man’s man – veteran, engineer, and mountaineer that he was – but by being unabashedly accepting, caring, and creative. Don Dorey proved that real strength comes from within.

As a tomboy and his namesake, my connection to Granddad was strong. When talking to himself (which the best people do), he called himself Dorey and my nickname was Dori so those private dialogs always seemed to include me. We’d take on challenges together and “Get it right, Dorey” or answer the tough questions like “What’re you doing, Dorey?” Grandma was concerned I’d take it personally when he was frustrated too but I’d seen him sign his name, “GD Dorey,” often enough that it was clear who he meant when he swore to himself: “Goddamn Dorey.” Rather than teach me conceptual lessons of right and wrong, Granddad shared more relatable truths; cussing is a privilege earned with age, lying is only for Liar’s Dice, gambling is reserved for Solitaire, drinking is intended for meals or Sock It To Me Time and, like most things, is more enjoyable in moderation. With him, I learned a deeper appreciation for those around me. While Momma inspired me and Grandma reflected me, Granddad gave me a sense of place. As a Dorey, his Dori, I not only belonged but could share that feeling through the ready acceptance of others he personified. Without him, I’m disconnected from a universe he gave meaning to.

In memory of G[eorge]D[onald] Dorey, my G[od]D[amn] Granddad:
Don Dorey, you are missed and we are better for knowing you.
October 1919 – July 2014

*Dan Fogelberg embodied what it was to be a “living legacy” and the phrase always reminds me of him. (post to come)

Growing Independence

True change is never immediate but our choices plant seeds that our actions water. Unrest often leads to declarations of intent yet it’s what we do with those good intentions that make the difference. In 1776, a resolution “declar[ing] the United Colonies free and independent States, absolved from allegiance to or dependence on the Crown or Parliament of Great Britain…” was presented to the Continental Congress. Copies of this Declaration were distributed throughout the colonies and other territories upon its adoption. That Declaration of Independence was adopted on the 4th of July but signed a month later, created a year into an ongoing rebellion against Britain, first recognized nearly two years later, and officially acknowledged after seven more years of war when the 13 participating colonies became the country we now know as The United States of America in 1783. That initial dawning of independence did not create freedom. In declaring ourselves free, we stated our intent. An intention that would’ve been but a footnote in history had we not been willing to put in the work, take the risks, and suffer the losses.

“To safeguard democracy the people must have a keen sense of independence, self-respect, and their oneness.”
— Mahatma Gandhi

Allies are another important part of any revolution. French involvement was crucial to The American Revolutionary War and it was the Treaty of Paris that officially recognized the independence of The United States. Some Americans think France should be beholden to us for our role in World War II but it was the least we could do, considering we may not have existed as the country we are without them. Whether revolting against the status quo or our own unrest, support is key. The American Revolution started with individuals addressing injustices and led to fellow colonists, united colonies, then allied countries working together for a greater good. From the moment we decide our circumstances must change, we are fighting for or against that goal with each choice we make. The alliances we choose decide which seeds are watered; a lack of support can stunt their growth, negativity – especially our own – can damage our revolution at its roots, and discouragement may cause drought but even small actions taken with intent can revive a thirsty ideal. We create our world through action and can change the world when we take action together: “Injustice in the end produces independence.” — Voltaire

Raise a mug to independence: (|_|*Happy 4th of July*|_|)

By celebrating the birth of an independent nation, we honor not only the individual freedoms that makes possible but the unity that shared struggle creates. Our liberation came at a terrible price, many of our most important lessons were learned too late, the ideals we declared with our independence have yet to be fulfilled, but we’re a work in progress and we can’t give up. By securing liberty for any of us, we ensure the fight can continue for all of us. When we remember that America was created by rebels and immigrants, we understand it’s not exceptionalism that makes us great but diversity. Our independence is founded on diversity and equality; as they continue to grow, we will become the world citizens that requires of us. We must respect the rights and freedoms of others in order to protect our own, seeking justice and defying injustice. Rebellion begins with questioning as conditioning and fear are twin pillars of the status quo – designed to keep questioning to a minimum. Although our options may be limited and our freedoms will be challenged, our ‘unalienable Rights’ begin with freedom of thought and therein lie the seeds of change.

“Independence is my happiness, and I view things as they are,
without regard to place or person; my country is the world,
and my religion is to do good.”
— Thomas Paine

To embrace the independence of being free from outside control, we must exercise the independence of thinking for ourselves. Any freedoms we’re granted or opportunities we’re provided should be a beginning, not the end. Only we can declare our intention, claim our independence, and exercise our freedom. Those choices plant seeds of possibility that are nurtured by our actions and influences. Despite varying degrees of privilege, we are not truly free if we’re not willing to imagine a world radically different than the one we know. That willingness, that independence of thought, is what the 4th of July is really about. Few freedoms exist that new thinking didn’t help create. Even our intrinsic liberties require creative thinking to be put to dynamic use. Whatever your country, don’t let your life be dictated by circumstance. Don’t settle for declaring what you want. Revel in that victory and find ways to start implementing what you envision. Whether the changes you imagine are large or small, take the action your current circumstances allow then build on that as things begin to change. Be patient but persistent, avoiding the drought of inaction and the acid rain of self-doubt. The seeds of good we plant for ourselves or the world, can and should be watered: “True independence is a state of mind, not of being.”*

“The first thing I want to teach is disloyalty, till they get used to disusing that word loyalty as representing a virtue. This will beget independence – which is loyalty to one’s best self and principles, and this is often disloyalty to the general idols and fetishes.”
— Samuel Clemens, Mark Twain’s Notebook

*I’m quoting Phyllis Dorey Thiessen, aka my mum; watch for the post of that story, coming soon..

San Francisco calls to me.

The City by the Bay invites you in with historic landmarks and remarkable architecture but asks you to stay with openair artistry and café tables. It’s a city built for walking; just as you haven’t really had coffee until you’ve had a quality roast brewed well, you can’t truly appreciate San Francisco from a car.* Its sidewalk cafés and alleyways, its unexpected parks and street art, the artisans selling their wares along with the more planned popup happenings make outings an adventure. There’s always a farmers’ market or craft fair, with food trucks and impromptu entertainment to be found. From Peace Plaza in Japantown to the thrift stores in the Mission District, from free museums along the Embarcadero to interactive music stores and bookstores in the Haight and North Beach, there are new discoveries to be made throughout the different neighborhoods. Each journey through this diverse mecca is as interesting as the destinations it offers.

“I left my heart in San Francisco
High on a hill, it calls to me
To be where little cable cars
Climb halfway to the stars!”
— Douglass Cross

Growing up in a small town, my many walks never abated my wanderlust. There was nowhere new to go, and not enough happening in the few public spaces there were. This is why California’s Central Valley kids spend their time in vineyards, drinking – which would almost seem poetic if they weren’t raisin vineyards. Given my rebellious spirit, it’s just as well that I grew up with so few options yet I never felt at home there. The one redeeming quality my so-called hometown has is its proximity to other places; mountains to the east, the ocean to the west, and San Francisco to the north. Escaping every chance I got started with high school road trips and became impulsive getaways that continued from the other direction upon moving to Oregon with my Hunny years later. Magical Mr. Mistoffelees, a furbaby who’s since crossed over his own bridge, would purr with me as he stretched along the dashboard in front of me when I could no longer resist a drive to the city. I’d inevitably have to turn right back but even the shortest visits left me feeling more myself.

The San Francisco skyline as seen from Treasure Island by Dave Rhodes aka my Hunny

My Hunny and I share a deep love for this welcoming city. He spent his childhood Thanksgivings here and was initially stationed at its now defunct ship yard when he joined the Navy out of high school. San Francisco was our go-to getaway, we celebrated anniversaries in the Theatre District, birthdays at Mason Street Wine Bar, and New Years in Union Square; the city itself has been our vacation home. My draw to our Sanctuary City goes beyond the nostalgia or shared memories and runs deeper than the undeniable affinity it inspires. The concept of home can be a difficult one yet ultimately speaks to belonging. My grandparents’ cabin provided the only real sense of home I had but, for all the love felt there and as much as I love that mountain community, I was nevertheless out of place. This mountain girl will always love nature but thrives on the inherent energy of human activity – I’m a city girl at heart. Born across the bay, my connection to the Bay Area has always been strong despite not growing up here.

“No city invites the heart to come to life as San Francisco does.
Arrival in San Francisco is an experience in living.”
— William Saroyan

I don’t remember my first visit but, for once, the lack of memory isn’t due to my damaged brain as I was in utero. I’m a product of the Summer of Love; my mum dared dream of a more fulfilling life born of that promise and moved north that year. The following year, I was born. Proving the impact of environment, even via the womb, I became a neo-hippie far removed from my pre-birth days at Haight and Ashbury. Momma had long since returned to the Central Valley, leaving her hippie days behind as well. Before her return though, during that uneasy time living just outside the City by the Bay, any chance to cross the bridge became a saving grace. In turn, while I was growing up stifled in central California, trips to this city of my heart were my salvation. As my Hunny and I created some of our best moments in my city by the bay, it proved the one constant in our nomadic life and nowhere else have I ever felt at home. Even my brother, without such a formative association, made a home here for a time. So – despite being very different people on vastly disparate paths – my mum, brother, Hunny, and I each found salvation across a bridge or two on a peninsula that defies description. San Francisco is hometown to none of us yet a home of sorts to all and, best of all, finally my home.

“Somehow the great cities of America have taken their places
in a mythology that shapes their destiny:
Money lives in New York. Power sits in Washington.
Freedom sips cappuccino in a sidewalk café in San Francisco.”
— Joe Flower

*An open-top bus works though.. Tours, street cars, and trains will help you discover the walks you want to take.

Happy Mother’s Day!

From Pooh Corner to poetry
With courage and coffee
Thru Art for art’s sake
She inspirited me

From Upstart Crow to unity
With trust and tea parties
Thru Truth for my sake
She inscribed her love

From Camp Nelson to crazy
With freedom and fantasy
Thru Faith for our sake
She inspires me still

© Dorian Dorey Rhodes 11 May 2008

White Bird Flying by Phyllis Dorey Thiessen aka my mum

“Hold fast to your dreams for, without them,
life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.”
— Langston Hughes

I’m the happy result of an unlikely event, a planned teenage pregnancy. Unhappy with her life, my mum made a bold change; she married at 16 and had me a year later. Momma hadn’t found a better life but she had realized her dream of becoming a mother and her brave pursuit of something more gave us each other, and San Francisco. From that nontraditional beginning, through impromptu poetry readings to her own artistic endeavors, she raised me first and foremost to be creative. That gift is as important to me as her unconditional love and unwavering belief in me. Creativity as an end, not just a means, has enabled me to see possibilities beyond my limitations as a spoonie. Momma not only taught me to dream but to dream creatively.

Our mums bring us into being, guide us as we grow, support us if we’re lucky, and befriend us if we’re ridiculously lucky. I’ve been ludicrously lucky but, then again, I started life as a dream come true – what a legacy!? Momma wonderfully captures our creative journey in her response to this poem,* “We’ve both been through all kinds of crazy since Camp Nelson (playing at the creek!), & Winnie the Pooh curtains, & huggable Eeyores – not to mention coffee & books at the Upstart Crow – but what we found there has brought us through the tough times, & lit up our memories of the good times, & added the magic!!” She’s described me as her alter-ego and she’s my inner compass; my mum and I are more than compatible, we’re complementary.

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.”

— Washington Irving

*Appropriately enough, this poem grew from seeds planted while writing a birthday poem for Momma.

Coffee, Tea, and Me

Black, liquid hope sold here.* Coffee has been in my life since the caffeinated trio who raised me finally acquiesced and allowed me to join them in their marvelous morning routine. My “coffee” was mostly milk, of course, but the milk-to-coffee ratio gradually reversed – with the coffee increasing as my height did. Black coffee was my drink of choice by the time I was well over five feet tall and the pain-relieving, happy-making escape that each mug provided was no longer reserved just for mornings. Not only did this miraculous hot beverage provide myriad “me” moments, it was clearly good for not just my mental wellbeing but my physical health as well. My chronic pain and coffee’s caffeine made us a good fit yet that’s only part of its allure.

An essential element of coffee’s goodness is its aroma, which is enhanced by warmth. A nice spot of tea also provides that comforting combination. I had a well-rounded upbringing thanks to my anglophile mum, who properly follows her morning coffee with afternoon tea. One of the benefits of tea is its variety, making it possible to opt for less caffeine without compromising flavor. Between the bean and leaf, there’s bound to be a caffeine-flavor combo to suit everyone and there’s nothing like a hot beverage when you need a moment to yourself. Cold drinks work yet savoring helps us slow down for a bit, and the sipping a hot beverage requires has a centering effect. A hot drink is beneficial year-round too as it’s scrumptious if you’re cold and helps you adapt to the heat if you’re hot.

Need Some More? by pica-ae

Find moments throughout your day – whatever the drink and whatever you’re doing – as we all need a breather, or ten. You don’t have to be still with your beverage for it to be therapeutic but you’ll be better off for every pause you let it create. Coffee really is a great way to start the day, especially if you take that time for yourself before getting caught up in the day’s busyness. While my beloved bean provides a pick-me-up when needed, tea can provide a curative calm. Tea comes with its own rich history. The simplest of tea ceremonies are powerful in action and intention. It’s the intention behind an action that gives it meaning which is why taking a coffee or tea break offers the most return for the least effort. Each equally wondrous in its own right, coffee or tea is therapy in a mug.

Then there are the health benefits:

Coffee in moderation and tea reduce heart disease risk.
Coffee protects against gallstones and kidney stones.
Coffee aids in fiber intake and fighting asthma.
Coffee & tea reduce the risk of Type 2 Diabetes.
Coffee & tea protect against liver disease.
Coffee & tea have powerful antioxidants.
Tea promotes alertness and relaxation.
Tea helps prevent tooth decay.
Coffee & tea are hydrating.
Coffee protects the brain.
Caffeine reduces pain.

Given my lifelong love affair with coffee, my “coffeesister” moniker is no surprise but there’s more to it. From the fellowship my family’s always shared over hot beverages to the friends found sharing a cuppa with someone, I believe in the ritual of it. I consider coffee and tea tangible friendship.. Science fiction guru, Robert A. Heinlein, created the concept of “water brothers” in his book Stranger in a Strange Land. Those who “share water” affirm mutual trust, understanding, and acceptance. Imagine feeling that way about ourselves, much less someone else. What better way to start than by opening our hearts, filling our mugs, and taking the time to simply be? As a coffeesister; I believe in sharing water, the aromatherapy of a hot brew, and the importance of being kind to each other – starting with ourselves:

“Coffee [or tea] is real good when you drink it, it gives you time to think. It’s a lot more than just a drink; it’s something happening. Not as in hip, but like an event, a place to be, but not like a location, but like somewhere within yourself. It gives you time, but not actual hours or minutes, but a chance to be, like be yourself, and have a second cup.”
— Gertrude Stein

*This is proposed as a coffee house name in the Gilmore Girls episode “I Solemnly Swear”

A Bit of the Mountains

My mum’s in the mountains with Granddad just now and, though it’s incredibly hard not to be with them, a small ziplock bag makes me feel closer to them. Sometime back – no doubt Momma’s last visit to see her Dad – she sent me a care package, including this surprise ziplock from Granddad. He was purposely sending me a bit of Camp Nelson, the closest thing I had to home growing up and a tangible connection to him – the closest thing I had to a dad. Nostalgic at a glance with its wee pinecone and selection of acorns, unzipping this seemingly simple bag transports me as he included Bear Clover* in it.. This fragrant plant is also known as “Mountain Misery” yet one whiff leaves me anything but miserable. Nothing quite smells like Bear Clover; it smells like the mountains!

A peek into my drawer of necessary things: