II. Rhea and I
Saturn’s Moons aren’t any beads or trinkets; they are gems. Precious gems. No one cares if they’ve been polished, smoothed or carved to suit one’s likings for they are gems and they just are. They can be the way they are. They already are. Despite changes, they still are. And so they will be forever after as thus they are now, virtuous in their core, incorruptible. Moons in my universe, walking eternity, muses and saviours and dragons and fire: these all they are.
Rhea and I met to have a drink and a chat at a terrace. Summer is here and that feels good. She was wearing a black dress -she always dresses in light colours. She was wearing a black dress then, though.
I had heard quite a bit about her before we actually got to work together for the first time. You know the way it is, people at work will predictably talk about other people at work for better or worse –for better and worse at times. As if we tried to create the appropriate environment with the good for you to hear the not that good. I don’t think we people are generally aware of it when we do it.
I had not been working there for that long but see, Rhea did not seem to meet standard criteria for people to talk about, which I found unexpected. Let’s clarify that I don’t intend to judge people’s behaviour when it comes to describing others with this; I think it is, in fact, very human. What I’m saying is that, when someone cannot be placed on the same standard track in terms of description, it just unavoidably stands out as that’s how predictably standard we human beings are. And this is the only conclusion that I could draw from it all: she stood out and that’s why people didn’t find a whole lot of standard words to describe her. Standard words were not enough to figure her out.
Rhea and I and some others had been chatting to students for a while, the usual dynamic in the course. We had talked about a few topics, the ones we would use to trigger conversation here and there and keep it going. Rhea is an observer, a real one. One of the first times she spoke to me personally she actually pointed at the fact that I had been wearing light colours -and what preference in colour in this sense would mean or would be somewhat related to.
I literally wanted to leg it, lock myself in and never come out. I was sad back then. I had been making the effort to look bright in appearance and I was determined to fake it; but Rhea is an observer, a real one. She says what she sees and she sees a lot -and way clearer than many. I felt she knew back then -now I know she did not. Yet, I wonder what difference it makes if then it felt as if she had.
In any case, we had a drink at the terrace and summer felt nice. Summer feels nice. We talked about what having white-flower acacias as opposed to sycamores on the streets in Madrid would say about neighbourhoods. She is an observer; I knew she would like that thus.
She looked just as beautiful in black.
When I say Language, what comes to your mind? How would you describe what Language is to you?
A way of communicating-whether that be spoken or not- but my overriding first thoughts are verbally. A way to express. If I think about it more deeply, there is culture and tradition.
What does bilingualism/ multilingualism feels like? Can you tell us what languages you speak or know level regardless?
English, Spanish, a leeeetle of ze French and German and a smattering of Maori. I can’t comment on bilingualism (I wish I could; from my perspective it seems SUCH a gift)
Writing Canvas I: Try to describe what your ideal place -where you would live, the one you would share with people you love- would be like with as many words as you want.
There would be sea and beach-or if not, definitely a large body of water. A temperate climate (with seasons though) There would be access to a city large enough to have ‘interesting’ cultural activities and amenities. A variety of restaurants from different cultures. There would be a community of like-minded people nearby. There would be good friends and acquaintances to stimulate and support. The actual dwelling I would need to think about more.
Writing Canvas II: Recommend any type of art and tell us why -a poem, a novel, a film, a speech, music, someone’s work- anything you consider art.
I’ve just thought of this: ‘Saints Bowing in the Mountains’ a poem by Hafiz.
There’s a god reference in it which I’m not that comfortable with, but the rest of it really resonates with me. https://wayshower.typepad.com/wayshower/2011/07/saints-bowing-in-the-mountains-hafiz.html
Given your experience as a woman and the role of women today, what would and/or what wouldn't you recommend to a 15-year-old woman? What words would you use to get your message across?
Believe in yourself and trust yourself even though you might not be ‘fitting in’ or following a path that is clear to you. Relax. Know you are beautiful. Know that there will be moments in your life of (what seems like) unbearable pain, yet you will survive and you will weave these experiences into your cloak of wisdom (look I’m a poet! sidenote) Trust yourself. It’s perfectly ok to not know stuff, but be knowing about things or people that may not have your best interests at heart.
(and it may be that some of those learnings you will have will come from these exact moments, when you did trust and that’s ok) You know, it’s all going to be ok… even when it feels like it is anything but ok. Enjoy your beautiful intelligent body-what other people say (or the voices in your head) is not important. I know it feels that way but it isn’t. Don’t compare yourself to others and the ‘ideal’ female form. Your face is great, your legs are fine, your nose fits in your face. Give yourself love. Watch the people that have this ability and observe what they do.
We, Lifenguage Women is an account of real Lifenguage events in which their protagonists answer the same five questions to give the reader a very tiny glimpse of who they are -as there wouldn’t be enough room in the cloud for who they really are.They are an individual universe in themselves, they can't fit in clouds.