The beauty of research

Wer sucht der findet (Who seeks will find), lautet ein Sprichwort (a saying goes). Wie wahr es doch ist (How true this is). The beauty of research is precisely that it's a re search. It is to search again what has already been found over and over again. Suchen an die man anknüpfen kann (Searches that can be continued), lineages of erkenntnisreichen Funden (enlightening finds). To research is to find oneself again, ones thoughts and insights from long ago. Den Weg den wir schon gegangen, führt zurück in die Ursprünge unseres Daseins, y está plasmado de pistas, respuestas y recuerdos. Las preguntas de hoy tienen historia en las respuestas de ayer. Today's questions have a history in yesterday's answers. Die Fragen von heute haben eine Geschichte in den Antworten von Gestern. 

Trying to read as Alexis bounces around me attempting to steal my pen or push a button on the laptop, reminds me of the scholarly virtues of patience and perseverance. Research can be slow in coming, for various reasons. There is so much to take care of on a daily basis: housework, cooking, entertaining the kids, self-care, trade off with Andy so he can work, too, etc... The moments to read uninhibitedly are far and few between: while the kids are entertained by themselves for a moment, while they're napping, while waiting for the train, on the train ride to work, in between calls at work, before bedtime while hangin' out with Andy. Then there are moments of word waterfalls, where the writing flows jealously, incessantly. Perseverance means staying on top of it while taking what I can get, 5 minutes, 30 minutes, yes, but an instant for one sentence or a word -after all, that one could be it, the clue, the new impulse that builds on the path ahead as time rolls on. Everyday a little bit, in many days it will be more. So much to read, wish I could lock myself in a tower for hours with all my books and an internet connection of course. For what is available online has made all the difference in the world for a mother in a little Swiss village. Thanks to google books and google scholar, I can read virtual books, even old ones. Here is Alexis again, little scholar spirit, tr....there, she pushed the off button on the laptop. Hahaha. I attribute it in large part to being pregnant with her, that I finished my Masters' thesis. On the day back in February 2010, that I went with my mom to the Mexican Embassy to interview her for my research, I found out, right there in the Embassador's office bathroom, that I was pregnant again. The interview, of course, began with the strained voices of two women who had just learned of an unexpected pregnancy. We followed through with it professionally, the way it would be expected of diplomats. In April I had kidney stones. The pregnancy was rough. So, I had a lot going against me. I had already failed to hand in my thesis once. I was also taking an entirely different approach. The push was on, and now this! Luckily, Puyi was going to the Tagesmutter 5 times a week for 5 hours. Andy took to bringing him there in the mornings, so that I would have enough energy to go to the library and work for a couple of hours before picking up Puyi. I didn't make it to the library every day, of course, towards the end of the pregnancy I wans't even able to turn around by myself anymore if I lay on my back. I was a whale. Lexi was a bigger baby than Puyi had been and moved so much, that I believe she stretched the placenta to have more room. Plus my body got all fancy with unbelievable amounts of water. I was a huge bubble. There was so much water, that her head never dropped. She was floating around in there until the very last moment, the Hebamme had to rip open the placenta, so Alexis could come into the birthcanal. Anyway, she never let me give up. There were countless discouraging moments in which I felt I wasn't advancing, that I wouldn't make it to the deadline in the fall. People around me had their doubts, too. It was the persistence regardless of the circumstances, regardless of set backs coupled with divine intervention and loving people around us, that made all the difference.

On Friday October 15th, the baby's due date was October 17th, Andy accompanied me to the copy center to print out my finished paper. We very slowly walked down Akazienstrasse. It was a beautiful late morning. At 17:00 I had an appointment with the midwife. She did something down there, she pushed in real hard. The walk home took me forever. Going up the three flights of stairs of our Berliner Altbau was torturous in its own way. By the time I got home, something had started happening to my body. I went straight to the bathroom to find that this huge smudge of something had come out. With Puyi I never experienced anything like that. With him the water broke and I had no contractions, so that they had to get jump started with pills at the hospital. Anyway, I was beginning to experience waves of crampy pain. After bearing Andy, I discovered that I have a pretty high tolerancy for pain. It was bad but not intolerable. Since they became quite regular, and it was my sister on skype who noticed this, I called the midwife. She came and said that it was time to slowly make our way to the clinic. The taxi driver was more nervous than we were. With Andy Eugen I had had time to pray a full rosary, but Alexis just happened.....

By the time we got to the Antroposophisches Krankenhaus Havelhöhe, the contractions were very persistent. I got to take a bath. Andy feel asleep in the warm moist air. With Puyi, he'd also fallen asleep through the first part of the process in the clinic. In the water and while concentrating on my body, I could feel Alexis in there doing her part to move ahead. She would push her feet from my ribs head first, just to bounce right back. She did this several times, until she grew tired I suppose, or realized that it wasn't working. I pictured her as a little arrow. There was simply too much water. What represented the luxury of space during pregnancy wurde nun zum Verhängnis. I stumbled out of the bath with the midwife's and Andy's help, went to the bed. Whereas I'd wanted to be quiet at little Andy's birth, which didn't work, I did not care this time around. During the last contractions leading up to Lexi's passage into an artificially lit world, I screamed so loud, I saw the walls shaking. The water went everywhere and soaked the sheets, the mattress and the floor around the bed. Alexis immediately attached to the nippel and remained for about a half hour until the midwife came to pry her off to be weighed, she would have stayed there otherwise. Alexis was born on October 16th, 2010 at 02:01 a.m. She was gorgeous! A few days later my thesis was off to the Europa University Viadrina. Andy personally took it there with the train I used to take to the classes, one hour from Berlin to Frankfurt-Oder. I would never again go since becoming a mom for the second time. I was too busy breast-feeding a greedy little girl. The exam took place exactly a month later on Novemeber 16th, my Mexican grandmother's birthday, at my professor's Berlin apartment. She had made tea and I brought cake. The two women examiners were disappointed that I had come without a baby. I passed with flying colors. It was a beautiful experience in the end.

Anyway, my second baby was the most beautiful and miraculous surprise gift ever! She loves books, even those without pictures. She pulls out a book, flipps through the pages as if she had done this a million times before (she's only one!) and walks around with it for the rest of the day. I've begun to make a little fortune telling game depending on what book she picks. For a while there she was very fond of a little Rousseau biography. Two days ago she brought around Camus' Stranger. Another favourite is Foucault. I try to keep the books I am currently reading from her, though she is always very careful with them. It is almost eerie sometimes, the way she handles a book, the way her eyes examine its content though never having learned to read yet... It makes me wonder where her soul may have come from on this journey. Anyway, she has been full of scholarly fortune and she reigninted that schorlarly fire in me. Te amo, mijita bonita, te amo y muchas gracias, mi amor!

The Master

I carry my notebook wherever I go,
for language won't stop its flow.
It keeps me away from sleep
and hunger and thirst,
away from company.

Even in my dreams
it writes and thrives.
And I am awake because of it.

When I let langauge be the master
it takes a hold of me
and I become
but a vessel for its incessant flow.

When I let language be the master,
I don't know
how to make it stop...
And why would I?

Its irresistable beauty,
the wisdom of its loving, honest touch
keep my fingers on the writing feather clutched.
I don't care about the smudges of ink
spritzing all over
as the pen bounces around
as if with a volonté of its own.

I don't want to think,
I just want to write
and let language be the master.

5 years later

The lessons I learned upon entering the inner temple, are the answers to the dilemmas I have recently faced. The dreamt path has taken five years (praise to Eris - thou art the fairest) in unfolding on the organic consciousness plain. Fascinating. I am in the jump. How long might it take? Might I land and be ok? Might I be able to catch up with Amitai and the other traveler? Where might the path that curves like the arm of a cave into the unknown lead?

I remember the carefully worn book with a brown leather cover that seemed to change in size, sometimes thicker, sometimes thinner. I believe to have placed it in the bundle. I also remember well the notes in green ink I looked at and tried to decipher. The pages had the scent of a scientist ahead in time who had scribbled them down frantically before becoming anorganic. Their language was alive and moved and morphed about the page making it hard to read. Symbols, drawings, words and phrases bounced around, danced about and shifted shapes.

dream 2007

Amitai led us to the temple. He is on a journey to the inner self. The superficial chamber was a majestic hall, as magnificent as the vault of a grand cathedral and as humble as the stomach of a cave: stoic and stony but open and fresh; lit only by the mystic glow of waxes and oils creating a reverent ambiance. The guide was already expecting us. No one else was there. He led us down the first set of stone stairs into a smaller chamber, like that of a cellar. He lit a candle and told Amitai that from this point on he'd have to find the path to the inner self, the innermost chamber of the temple, it's most sacred place, on his own. The attendant said nothing more and returned to the surface.
Though Amitai was sure of his quest, he expressed uncertainty as to the way which to take, for he had never been to the inner self. Nor had we.
I grew concerned, for we had no maps, no books and no instructions to help us out on this journey. The temple was vast and descended like a labyrinth deeper and deeper into an earthen womb in a series of chambers, hallways, tunnels and stairs with countless paths to turn on. I spotted a wooden fixture upon which lay a book and a piece of paper. I acquired it with enthusiasm as I discovered that it was a book about the temple which explained how to get out of the temple once the inner self had been reached. The paper was some sort of hand scribbled map in green ink starting at the place we were at. Excited about my finding I took it to Amitai who showed gracious indifference, he was too focused to pay it much mind. I guarded it anyway.
We proceeded into the next area which split up in a set of bigger rooms. To the left spanning very far back, there were shelves filled with books, chairs and couches and people all over the place: hangin', chillin', talking or simply being. Others were moving about, searching. A small hall led through to another path which grew dark and invisible, like a lightless tunnel. To the right I paid no mind at all.
Amitai led us right of the tunnel to another descent. It was a perfectly vertical non stair. It went down deep. How could you possibly survive the jump? I wondered and grew nervous. Yet surely this was the way. Amitai and our other male companion figured out to throw down the bags, if a puddle of clear liquid formed beneath them at the bottom they were ok to jump. But Maria was too frightened and disappeared into the room sequence of shelves and chairs. I went after her to try and convince her not to give up. Amitai and the other traveler stayed behind, they didn't seem to mind at all that Maria had left the path.
I looked around for a while glancing at books and faces. There she was in a group of women wearing make up, red lipstick, blouses and skirts. Maria, too, looked like they did now. She said to me "I choose to stay here. It's ok to remain in a more superficial plain. Go on without me, this is what I want. Not everyone has to reach the inner self..." Though startled, I accepted and understood. Went back to the drop of stone, where the two men had already gone, they were down there barely waiting for me. As I arranged my things to throw them down -I took a long time to bundle up my robe in which I carefully placed my case of greens, which I thought to myself I wouldn't use in the temple anyway- a group of tourists led by a guide came along.
There were maybe half a dozen, maybe some more. The guide explained to them that they needed to jump. I understood that you needed to believe in the jump to be ok upon landing; believe in your path, know that you are going to be ok. Two of the tourists in front of me were very scared and someone said "help them!" So I did. I touched their arms to help them go. All the tourists dropped. On the ground they lay for a moment, then, they stood up. All but the two I had helped. These two now were dead. I understood that though you may encourage someone to jump, one alone must actually jump to proceed to the inner self.
Amitai and the other guy were already out of sight. I needed to hurry. I threw my bundle down and watched as the clear liquid puddle formed underneath on the bottom. Then I jumped.