Friends

Adventures

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Wow.  Today I fly to Barcelona.  I don’t know when I’ll be back.  Spain might keep me for a while.

Miraculously, everyone has given me their blessing to go.  What a gift!

I don’t have very much to say, really.  Most of you know the loose reasons for the trip: studying Buddhist meditation; learning Spanish; traveling; participating in various intentional, resource-sharing communities.  Learning different ways of living.  Apprenticing.  Adventuring.  Trying to establish attitudinal habits that will anchor me for decades to come.  And for me, going to a new place is a great way of jump-starting my beginner’s mind.  But even with those general goals as guides, I really have no idea what to expect in the coming year.  Which is exciting — not in the way that a bolt of lightning is exciting, but more like the ebbing at the shore that reveals all the tidepools.  If that makes sense.  I don’t know, I also just really love tidepools, ever since I was little.

Now, let’s talk logistics for a second.  I’m not bringing my computer to Spain.  I’ll have an international phone, but it’ll basically be for coordinating travel while I’m there, or in case of emergency.  I am bringing my trusty stationery and stamps, and I would LOVE to write you letters and postcards when I can.  Just email me your address at katie (dot) loncke (at) gmail (dot) com (which is a new gmail account), and when I make it to an internet cafe, I’ll be all over it.

On the blogospheric tip, I have to give my warmest, strongest recommendation for the most bad-ass fantastic website you’ve ever seen in your life: brownfemipower’s Flip Flopping Joy.  It’s not in my blogroll because I don’t know her, like, personally (though someday…maybe someday…one can hope!), but she’s seriously one of my favorite writers of all time.  An extraordinary teacher and a major inspiration for this project, that’s for sure.

As Kloncke comes to an end (or goes into hibernation — who knows), I want to say thank you so much to everyone who has contributed to it — through comments, emails, links, or simply encouraging me to write.  Lately a few people have said some really kind things about this space, and my earlier blogging at cambridge common, and I just appreciate it so much.  To know that my thoughts have helped bring someone else a little peace or inspiration is…it’s maybe like when you’re a baby, and you’re playing with one of those puzzles with, like, only four or five big pieces that fit into the holes to teach you shapes, or animals, or whatever, and you put one of the pieces into its corresponding slot.  You just sense that something is right with the world.  You look at the filled, wholesome shape for a few seconds…and then you take the piece out of its hole and start testing it in all the other spaces all over again.  Yeah, it’s kinda like that.  An adventure of the best kind.

Sending you all so much love, and wishing you the best in all things for the coming year,

katie

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To live would be an awfully big adventure.

–Peter Pan

Marvels, Continued

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WordPress is being wack about picture formatting, so here’s a separate post for non-inaugural marvels encountered since California.  (For those who check my facebook, sorry for the repetition!)

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Junot’s Tribute

Junot Diaz Day
The City of Cambridge declared January 25th Junot Díaz Day.
Petey and me
Junot and me
junot times 2
you could say he's really blown up

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Split Pea Soup

delicious
I add kale for texture and cherry tomatoes for flavor. Yum.

Basic recipe via vegetarian superstar Heidi Swanson.  Normally I like to use a little cumin and cayenne, but this time I was out of the former so I threw in a couple of bouillon cubes.  Rapunzel stock makes everything tastier, I swear.

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Erin Present

erin present

So here’s the story. One day, in college, Erin and I were talking after a WGS class when she looked at my bare collarbone and said, “You need a necklace.” She then took off her own necklace and gave it to me. Wait, it gets better. She MADE this necklace, metalsmithing. Not only did she make it, but it’s actually the ‘negative’ of a beautiful ring that she cut and welded as a gift for someone. Erin present, very important. Now you know the story.

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Happy Soul Night

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For a going-away present (even though I’m the one leaving…fuck it — I’ll take any excuse to give a dorky gift), I’m making a friend of mine a mixtape.  He always kids me about my cheerfulness, asks me what’s my secret, so the theme of the mix is “happiness.”

  1. Ain’t No Sunshine ——————————- Bill Withers
  2. Everybody’s Free (To Feel Good) ————- Quindon Tarver
  3. Be (Intro) —————————————- Common
  4. The Happy Song (Dum Dum) —————– Otis Redding
  5. Joyful, Joyful ———————————— The St. Francis Choir
  6. Uptight (Everything’s Alright) —————- Stevie Wonder
  7. Joy ———————————————— Talib Kweli
  8. Much More ————————————– De La Soul
  9. Walkin’ My Baby Back Home —————– Nat King Cole
  10. Nothing Even Matters ————————– Lauryn Hill
  11. The Sweetest Gift ——————————– Sade
  12. Alfie ———————————————– Dionne Warwick
  13. Oh Happy Day ———————————- The St. Francis Choir
  14. Ain’t Got No — I Got Life ———————- Nina Simone

Music.  Not just for emo’s anymore!  Speaking of which (music; wresting it from hipsters), a couple friends and I are heading out to “Soul-le-lu-jah,” soul music night at a tiny dance club in my neighborhood.  Best night of the week. We’re all drenched with sweat by the end.

Happy weekend, y’all!  See you soon.

I’m Back! To the Beginning…

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Hey everybody!  Sorry to disappear like that.  Between the beautiful visit with family and friends in Cali, returning to an almost palpable sense of community in Cambridge, adventuring in DC/Maryland for the inauguration, working for one final 40-hour week, and now packing up to move to Spain in four days, it’s been…busy.

And while the experiences have been amazing (a few even historic), amidst the travel I somehow slipped deep into my own mind.  There’s been a shortage of direct, calm, open experiencing and an overabundance of thinking.  It’s a common problem for me, one that manifests in cycles of anxiety so subtle and slow-building that one day, without warning, I break down crying over dry cleaning or a rotten lemon.

This morning, when I sat down to meditate for half an hour, I only made it for three minutes.

But here’s what I wanted to share about these brooding cycles of mine: they come and go.  Typically peaking twice a year: once in the summer, and once in the winter, after the new year.  And while the faithful regressions may frustrate the logic of linear progression (experience yields greater efficiency; age yields greater wisdom), they also offer something very valuable, which is a chance to practice starting at the beginning.  For the past few years, every major breakdown, once it passed, left me feeling radiant — almost newly born.  Ready to start again.

The beginner’s mind is a concept I’ve been wanting to write to y’all about for weeks.  One of the most helpful essays I read last year (and possibly ever) was Shunryu Suzuki’s “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind.”  Indulge me for a minute while I quote it extensively.  Then there will be some pretty pictures!

In Japan we have the phrase shoshin, which means “beginner’s mind.”  The goal of practice is always to keep our beginner’s mind.  Suppose you recite the Prajna Paramita Sutra only once.  It might be a very good recitation.  But what would happen if you recited it twice, three times, four times, or more?  You might easily lose your original attitude towards it.  The same thing will happen in your other Zen practices.  For a while you will keep your beginner’s mind, but if you continue to practice one, two, three years or more, although you may improve some, you are liable to lose the limitless meaning of original mind.

Now, I know that for some of us, bouncing around from new thing to new thing is our modus oh-lordy: a mind captivated by distractions and, therefore, beginnings.  Ooh this! — Now that! — Hey, how ’bout this thing over here?!  But the beginner’s mind is different in a couple of ways.  One, it implies intention.  We are deliberately setting out as beginners in an undertaking that we consider worthwhile.  We might be real novices at it; we might have been working at it for most of our lives.  Whatever it is, we choose it — it doesn’t choose us.  It doesn’t seduce us.  Secondly, whereas a lot of folks I know judge themselves harshly for being distractable (I can’t focus; I’m unreliable; I’m irresponsible), the beginner’s mind is free of judgment.  After all, you’re just a beginner!  We give it our best shot, and then we move on to what comes next.  We feel excited, engaged, buoyant — not worried about who’s watching, or whether we’ll mess up.  We’re beginning, and it feels fresh and spacious.

When we let go of pride and perfectionism, then we are open to new information, new experiences, and new directions.  Suzuki writes,

In the beginner’s mind there is no thought, “I have attained something.” All self-centered thoughts limit our vast mind.  When we have no thought of achievement, no thought of self, we are true beginners.  Then we can really learn something.  The beginner’s mind is the mind of compassion.  When our mind is compassionate, it is boundless. . .Then we are always true to ourselves, in sympathy with all beings, and can actually practice.

Of course, the beginner’s mind doesn’t apply exclusively to Zen Buddhism, or spiritual practices in general.  We could just as easily say, “When our mind is compassionate, it is boundless. . .Then we are always true to ourselves, in sympathy with all beings, and can actually [live].”

Well, friends, now it’s back to packing, and stressing, and packing some more.  But just by sharing this idea, contemplating it, I’ve begun to relax.  And when I relax, I can marvel.  So here are some snapshots of a few of the marvelous things that have happened since California…

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Inauguration

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Update: photo tech’s not co-operating; see here for more marvels!

Dog Days

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Recently, my family got a rescue dog.  Boomer.  I never grew up with dogs (only cats, a guinea pig, and the occasional ill-fated fish or hermit crab), and I am very unskilled at relating to them.  Supervising is not my strong suit.  No siblings, never a camp counselor or teacher, no desire to parent in any way.  Ever nonplussed about how to speak to dogs or children, a fallback baby voice usually emerges and I make myself cringe.

But Boomer and I, we can hang.  Which is largely because he is an impeccable animal.  In the entire two weeks with my parents, I’ve never once heard him bark.

Chamomile tea, vanilla soymilk, honey, and nutmeg.
Chamomile tea, vanilla soymilk, honey, and nutmeg.

He is friendly and buoyant, yet obedient and polite: he sits on command, he picks up his leash, he does not sniff crotches.  Big enough to roughhouse, but incredibly gentle, even with our two cats.

So when I brought him along to my favorite Sacramento coffeehouse one morning, he was a perfect angel, while I was the one who felt the need to behave.

How does one enact the role of dog owner, exactly?

Do you tie him up outside, or bring him in?

If you bring him in and he lies nicely at your feet while you work, what happens when you have to use the bathroom?

The Naked Lounge. Coffeehouse furniture at its finest.
The Naked Lounge. Coffeehouse furniture at its finest.

It was interesting to feel so self-conscious, even about something as simple as how to hold a leash.  (Confidently but casually.)

Along with the self-consciousness came a sort of Goffmanian sense of performativity.  Here was a whole new gender front to try: middle-class feminine girl with docile lab.

Different.

Strange.

But fun.

Rules of Houseguesting

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Dedicated to Chelsea and Patches.

Rule #1: Don’t hide your delight when your host offers you a morning brew using his homemade bike-art teapot warmer, fashioned out of gear chains, a hub thingy, and rubber tubes, with room for a little tealight candle in the center. Yes, it is as beautiful and amazing as it appears.

Rule #2: When no one expects it, do some spontaneous dishes.  A houseguest pulled this on me one time and it’s become a favorite ritual of mine ever since.   It (1) allows you to contribute to the home, (2) occupies your hands without interrupting a conversation, (3) lets you get cozy with the kitchen, and (4) guides the overall vibe toward generosity and warmth.  This is a particularly useful rule for households of people under the age of 25, in which case there will always be dishes in the sink, and your hosts will be extra floored that you are willing to touch their dirty shit.

Rule #3: Abet adventure.  When your hosts suggest setting out to find some branches for decorating their walls, make no attempt to disguise your goofy enthusiasm.  Express your excitement for all manner of romps, forays, jaunts, and missions.

Rule #4: Pick thoughtful, fun-loving, generous, and all-around brilliant hosts.  And you’re golden.

Free Skate

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Every winter, Harvard Law School sets up a tiny, free ice rink on an old volleyball court behind the law library.  Two bed-sized bins beside the rink hold dozens of pairs of figure and racing skates, ripe for the borrowing.  Unencumbered by anything resembling pride or shame, Lea, Jonah and I jerked, wobbled, and skidded like true champions until thoroughly and happily exhausted.

Ice skating is by no means in my blood, but that’s one of the reasons I love the (rare) opportunity to do it.  It makes me feel like a child learning to walk.  I’m so delighted by the sheer novelty of the movement, the foreignness and faint danger, and the potential — always enticing, seldom realized — for graceful speed, that I never worry about the fact that I look foolish.  I just smile and laugh a lot.  Of course, good-natured company helps, too.

Friends, Meet Henry Mills.

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henry frogazoomOh boy.  Oh boy, oh boy.  You know those reflex tests where the doctor taps your knee and you can’t help but kick?  Or if you’re asleep and someone pinches your nose shut, you can’t help but open your mouth?  Thinking about Henry Mills is kinda like that for me: no matter what, a smile just comes.

As Beyoncé Knowles once said (yes, seriously), “You are who you’re around.  If I don’t want to be like you, then I don’t want to be around you.”  The positive side of that aphorism: surround yourself with people who not only impress you, but also inspire you.

Henry and I met in the summer of 2006, volunteering in New Orleans with the Common Ground Collective.  I still can’t believe my luck in running into him.  Henry is the kind of person you want to be around.  Especially in the following situations:

> walking in a quiet park or garden

> cartwheeling in the rain

> getting juggling lessons in your Uncle John’s basement

> reading children’s stories aloud in a giant used bookstore

> brewing ginger tea

> mourning a loss

> driving in a fantastic lightning storm

> gettin’ down at a great show

> making your own great show

Another great situation to share with Henry (and I hope he won’t mind my saying this) is a kissing situation.  Continue reading →

Happy New Year!

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Sending so much love to each and every one of you.  May the new year find you with a peaceful, joyful heart.

My list of resolutions is still in the works, mainly because I have very little idea what my 2009 life will look like in Spain.  But I recently finished a book by Sakyam Mipham that helped remind me of the essence of good intention and resolve.  With wisdom and simplicity, he writes,

How do we live from the stainless pure ground of basic goodness?  How do we generate a compassionate heart in every encounter?  How do we plant the flower of bodhichitta on the rock of a dark age?  The quickest, most practical way to do this is to keep loosening our grip on ourselves [. . .] It all comes back to one of my favorite sayings: “If you want to be miserable, think about yourself.  If you want to be happy, think of others.”  This is how we bring enlightened mind down to earth.

Hoo.  Think I’ll leave it at that!

Have a wonderful night, be safe, and DANCE a step for me, won’t you???

Writing Letters

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This summer, inspired by a couple of friends, and in the spirit of making things with my own hands, I started writing letters.  When was the last time you wrote one of those?  I hadn’t done it for as long as I could remember — maybe since summer camp — but the process immediately clicked with me.  An expression of love, a mode of communication, artistic playtime, and an excuse to buy stamps.  There’s a sense of accomplishment, intrigue and nostalgia when you slip an envelope into the mailbox.

From the beginning I was very ambitious.  I had read somewhere that Einstein wrote an average of one letter per day.  I aimed to write one per week.  I wanted to decorate them with stamps and stickers, illustrate them with pencil drawings — the whole works. I dutifully studied the advice (sage and often uproarious, if a bit anachronistic) of Lewis Carroll, who, for instance, offers guidance on how to begin a letter:

Continue reading →