NEW LIFE

     Six AM has been a neat time for me lately. This particular one is a crisp, cold day in Boulder. The clouds have cleared, and a bright, warm sun has just started to burn away the wispy morning fog. Scattered rays of first sunlight dance with the thick cover of mist, sometimes cutting though onto the vivid, white snow up on the hill behind my house. This is Daddy Time. Charlotte is happily swinging next to me in one of the many kiddy devices that I initially resisted, and now bow my head in thanks for. I find myself humming electronic versions of Gently Down The Stream, You Are My Sunshine, and countless other tunes I do not know the name to but have associations with from some point in childhood. Earlier I was reading an interview with Ben Harper about how he builds pillow and blanket forts for his three children, and then plays instruments in them, and makes up nursery songs of his own. That is cool. Eli came over recently and did some deep Tuva throat signing for Charlotte. Someday I will experience my voice and play with musical instruments. I recently had a beautiful image of me and Charlotte going to piano lessons together when she is like six or seven - and her laughing as I struggle to learn what comes naturally to a young child. Ah, but my art lies in other places right now. Some of the images of Charlotte I have captured on film are so amazing. Seeing this little one grow is a wonder I have not been able to write much about, or try to explain too much because I don't feel I can do it justice. Just Do It - have a little one and you will see. Bet Nike never expected their phrase to be used like that. Ha.

     She just had a few cute little sneezes, which is funny; they are actually the most adult sound she makes (other than some gargantuan farts from time to time.) Ah, so I space out staring at her for a bit. Glancing back, then out the window in deep thought/emotion - now the fog has totally lifted and our entire hillside is bright white with a few trees (the ones that survived the fire last summer) providing contrast, and a deep blue and inviting sky has been painted on the top half of this magnificent creation. Winter birds are swooping around and landing on the feeders in the yard of a neighbor. If it was not like zero degrees out, I would open the door to hear them instead of these electronic tones. Quite good electronic renditions, I must say though.

     I just turned to notice that Charlotte has been staring wide eyed at the 27 Kathryn cards; watercolor masterpieces which have been hanging on my wall for the past years. Perhaps she understands the intensely amazing tales they tell, tales of emotion, experience, fear, power, and wonder. All things my dear Charlotte Catherine will experience herself, and hopefully some she will not.

     Yesterday I was holding her tiny hands and stroking fingers that are less than one inch long, and only a quarter inch thick. So, so very delicate. Just like the rest of her. This tiny being in my hands is my responsibility. She is in my power. It is up to me to be strong, protective, careful, thoughtful and wise, intelligent and fair, positive, and real. All those things wrapped together and so, so much more - to be a loving father. Ah, and that just covers the time she is with me. When the beautiful little one starts to go out into the vast and huge world. Ohhh. Wow, how will I feel? Worried, excited, expectant, scared, and hopefully confident that I have given her the tools. She will be the artist of her life, with me just providing some of the paints. Hm.

     She has recently discovered how to use her vocal cords for something other than crying - music to my ears. Just a few moments ago, I heard perhaps the most complex series of coos and chirps, mixed together with a burp or a hiccup or something. It sounded as though she was actually trying to say something. So cool. What will this child have to say? I haven't gotten a super clear picture of her personality yet, but slowly more and more of the painting is being filled in. She is very strong willed, that I can say. A few times Karen has had to take painkillers to try to deal with her slowly healing uterus, and the effect it has on Charlotte is noticeable. She goes into this kind of mellow glazed-look place. Kind of nice when you have been up from 2AM till 6AM, but then she is not the Charlotte I am starting to know and love. Most of the time, she is strong willed and so very patient, which I am glad to see. Much better than strong willed and demanding. Her patience is noticeable in many ways. Often when she is starting to become hungry she lets you know slowly, and with an amazing amount of politeness. She will coo a bit, start to make sucking noises, cry out the initial request gently. If you let her know it is on the way, and help her prepare for the intake, Charlotte can be so nice about it. Even sometimes when I have not caught the initial request, and her vocal request have taken on a distinctively impatient tone, she is still usually within reason. I will pick her up, give her re-assurance that food actually is on the way, and probably in less than three minutes (we are good waiters and waitresses around here.) If I give her that, she will calm down again, and gaze at me waiting, sometimes smiling.

     At times I have seen her in this strange state where she seems to be staring out at something I do not see, thinking thoughts that do not concern me, and generally being above it all. Then she will notice me, and give me this look like she could barely be bothered, kind of like I am of lesser intelligence, almost a judgmental look. I have started to imagine that she has a very mature and wise soul, and sometimes she sees me with an intelligence and understanding that is a bit revealing and kind of scary. My friends, Aaron and Leah, probably know what I mean. I have seen their daughter Fiona give me similar looks. Perhaps we are in the presence of Indigo Children?

     OK, now that was pretty funny. I was sitting here typing, and she had gone into a pretty deep sleep. I heard her start to grunt a bit, and make those waking up sounds. But she didn't quite wake up, she just grunted more, and then I heard the tell-tale sounds of what we have come to refer to around here as a major explosion in the old diaper. All without even waking up. The look on her face was comical to. So I have got about two minutes to finish typing this before she becomes uncomfortable and starts demanding the daddy-o car wash. Joy, joy.

     Now I am back, and it was the total fake out. How can such a little body make such sounds and not have some poops down there that needs changing? Well, lucky me. I lost a bet to Karen a few days ago, and she now has ten wild card get-out-of-jail-free times to use whenever she wants to skip her turn changing Charlotte. Actually changing her is not a bad thing anyway. Karen and I converted a huge closet into the cutest little nursery full of baby energy. I constructed a changing table out of cherry wood (which will later convert into a desk for young Charlotte,) and we have decorated it to be a warm and inviting place to be.

     Smiles, smiles, smiles. Charlotte has discovered the joy of smiling, and how it effects the people she shares it with. "Gee, when I smile and twinkle my eyes, people smile back, and their energy glows and gets all happy. I think I will smile bigger, again. Maybe I will add a little goo-goo-gurgle to it, those big people seem to like that too." Ah, this little one will have a power, a wonderful power, but one that Karen and I will have to teach her not to misuse.

     So today, at 9:01AM, Charlotte was ten weeks old. I have to say, this past two and a half months has been the most intense time I have ever had, hands down. I mean of course it has!! Duh! What was I thinking - that she would just dance right out of Karen's womb and integrate into our lives seamlessly? The adjustments have been monumental in all ways - physically, emotionally, spiritually. Wow!!!

     Something my friend Charles sent out in an e-mail a few days back summed up a desire I have - a desire of a way to be with my daughter, a way I want to be with all in my life, a sense of community and connection and creativity I strive to embrace more of. He wrote (hope you don't mind me passing on your words Charles.)

I sit here this evening, having finished a delicious meal, grateful for good food to eat.

The antique clock on my piano ticks, serving as a reminder that we are on a deadline for war.

It has been snowing for a second day now, and there is no sign of it letting up. The columns of snow are shoulder height as I walk out on my deck. I have been shoveling much of the day, and there are parts of my trail system where the snow banks are higher than my head! And according to news sources, it will continue to snow for at least another twelve to eighteen hours.

Today has been a day of digging to and shoveling out. Digging to firewood and the outhouse; shoveling out to the car and road. The car is completely buried and road is impassable.

While shoveling, I found myself appreciating the magnificent beauty of my environment, the graceful movement of my aging body, and the meditative nature of my chore. This day has allowed me time to reflect upon the essential truths I hold dear to my heart and to remember those many souls out there with whom I have been able to share the dance floor in this dance we call life.

I have always highly valued community. To me, the degree to which one has richness of community is the measure of one's wealth. While it is tempting these days to fall into feelings of fear and despair, I find the love being shared within my closest community is particularly vibrant and alive these days. What we mean to each other is being expressed. What is important is being shared. In doing so, we live in the present, we give each other comfort, and we keep hope alive.

So tonight, I ask that you tell those who have impacted your life how much they mean to you. Tell not only your family and friends, but your colleagues, your former lovers; even those who have been the most challenging in your life, for in some ways they have been your greatest teachers. Do it in person; do it in prayer. Be grateful and fill your heart with love.

And finally, be creative. Now is a time to write, to dance, to paint, to play music. Creativity is the expression of creation; and to experience creativity is, in my view, to experience connection with our Creator.

If you are receiving this, you have touched my life in some way - and I am grateful.

Much love on this snowy evening.

Charles

     So thanks Charles, thanks Charlotte, thank you all for your contribution to my life. It has been a long strange trip to get here no doubt, but right now, with this beautiful ten week old baby cooing next to me - well, I feel like it is only just starting.

     Peace to you all and please do reach into my life. Although I must tell you, I am still figuring out how to nourish this delicate being and still have the mojo to keep my circus spinning. I will write or call when I can.

     Bye now.

Benjamin D. Buren

benjamin@alivestudios.com
www.alivestudios.com
www.twcandles.com

Power Flows Where Your Attention Goes.....