Author: TiffanyCreek

To Russia With Love

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I arrived to St. Petersburg by ferry, from Helsinki, in 2015.  I was scared. The ferry was Russian. I made a few Russian friends working in food service. We exchanged social media contact, but they disappeared from my radar when I got back to the U.S.A. Perplexing!

I took the featured photo at the time of my visit. The three: a young man in a red shirt, a woman in  a dress, with a black bag, and a woman in pants, and a jean jacket, carrying a white plastic bag, are disengaged with each other, except they walk side by side. Could it be Mama, Grandma and Grandson? Possibly!  Are they Russian?  I thought so at the time.  The man in the background taking a picture adds a touch of interest.   

After a thought provoking trip, I made it back to Helsinki. The ferry didn’t gobble me up, but delivered me safely from one shore to the other, and back again. I do wonder though, whatever happened to my Russian friends from the ferry?

“Sweet Content of Mind”

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Ah, yes, sweet content of mind. How do you get to this place? To some it may come naturally as a part of their DNA. Some of us need to work harder at it. When we practice equanimity we may come closer to having ‘sweet content of mind.’ They are one in the same, or as we also say, ‘peace of mind.’

Reading gives me a feeling of equanimity. In reading a photo essay today entitled “Orwell’s Greenwich,” by Peter Robert’s, I learned details about George Orwell and was reminded of two of his books which I read in high school, “1984” and “Animal Farm.” The photo essay, through images followed the time that George Orwell lived in Greenwich, London. Orwell was a self-proclaimed socialist, but he didn’t necessarily appreciate left-wingers. He was happiest going to the pub and spinning yarns with the commoners. He fought in the Spanish Civil War, because he believed in the cause. He struggled with tuberculosis. Another person mentioned in this essay was Benjamin Waugh, because he lived in the same neighborhood as Orwell. The essay showed a photo of a plaque on Crooms Hill in London commemorating this man as the founder of the National Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children. This plaque can remind people passing by of how to make the world a better place, and to regard children well. ‘All children want is to be included.’

The essay reminds us that Orwell began “1984” with the following line, “It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen,” and that this sentence echoes Charles Dickens’ opening words to “The Tale of Two Cities,” “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Because life is essentially about imbalance, and disequilibrium, don’t we all search for ways to make everything OK, especially at the beginning of a New Year? In this new year, I hope everyone finds sweet content of mind, a sense of equanimity and peace of mind. If not for a second.

San Diego, California.

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What cities do you want to visit?

The Coronado Bridge

Flying over San Diego, I saw in the distance the Coronado Bridge traversing the San Diego Bay. The sunlight of mid-afternoon shimmered under the arched pathway. I wonder; what was life like for San Diegans, before this bridge was built in 1967? How did they get to the Island of Coronado? ❤️

The Album

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What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever found (and kept)?

The coolest thing I ever found was Elizabeth Y Garrett’s Album. I was 19 years old and found it buried in a box of old books I purchased for a dollar. I still have it. The following is a transcribed excerpt from the book reflecting Elizabeth’s thoughts of the day.

What Came to Be

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Deciding whether or not to buy that pumpkin could be a lost opportunity, but for what? Three days ago my daughter mentioned she would like a pumpkin, and if I would please check the local market for one on my way home from an errand. So I passed by the market and checked out the supply. One in particular looked pretty good. After checking out its shape, size and condition, I pondered – would this pumpkin be OK? I actually considered not taking it into the store to purchase – I’m not sure what held me back. Its slight imperfections – would it fit the bill? Too much over analyzing – for sure. Well, I took the plunge and lugged it inside to the cash register, where the person bagging groceries said, Do you have candy for the trick or treaters? I said, “No!” “I better get some.” He agreed and was happy to influence me. I didn’t tell him we hadn’t had a trick or treater for 20 years. So, after buying my candy and pumpkin @ $9.99. I asked the man, not young, not old, but a familiar face, bagging groceries, if he wouldn’t take my pumpkin to the car for me. It was kind of heavy. He was happy to oblige. On our way I asked him if he remembered the huge blizzard we had in 2011, which totally ruined our Halloween; the years when we used to get tons of children at the door. He said, “Yes, of course, I remember it.” And proceeded to tell me that night of the storm he was drinking and driving, hit black ice and had a horrible car accident. He said he hasn’t had a drink since. I was impressed with his story and told him I knew a few men who have chosen the same path as he has.

So, if I hadn’t gone in to the buy the pumpkin, I never would have heard the not so old man’s story, a person who has waited on me invariably since the times of Covid, and who has never ever opened up to me in all that time. I took the pumpkin home to my daughter, who excitedly carved out this jack-o-lantern, for her own 14 month daughter, whom she dressed up like a little witch, and marched her up and down the street to stop at all the houses with their lights on to go trick or treating. I think she was the only one out, but still neighbors were hopeful that someone would stop. The pumpkin sat outside on our doorstep with a candle-inside, to chase away all the evil spirits flying through the air.

All of this came to be…

Cultivo una rosa

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Cultivo una rosa blanca

en julio como en enero

para el amigo sincero

que me da la mano franca

y para el cruel

que me arranque el corazón

Cardo ni ortiga cultivo

Cultivo una Rosa Blanca.

Por José MartÍ

I cultivate a rose

in July as in January (Warm or cold, it matters not.)

For my sincere friend

who gives me his honest hand

and for the cruel one

Who pulls out my heart

Neither thistle nor thorn

do I cultivate.

I cultivate a white rose.

“Cultivo una rosa blanca” was written by José Martí, a patriot, poet and journalist, who fought to help liberate Cuba from Spanish rule and colonialism.

The poem, which I memorized eons ago came to me in the night as I tossed and turned to go back to sleep. Funny to have such a memory, but there is a reason for everything. Life can be a struggle and we move through it like water in a deep lake. Sometimes our movements in what ever form they should take are made without thought for the repercussions, or waves they make. Unbeknownst to ourselves, our actions and words may hinder the tender heart of someone whose silent pain we are unfamiliar with, but nonetheless our interactions are significant. We may be the honest friend at times who lends a hand or we may be the cruel friend who pulls out someone’s heart. The point of the poem is to be able to turn the other cheek and forgive, when we are the recipient of some else’s words or actions. The harder part is to realize when we are the one who causes the hurt, or anticipate it before it happens.

Pema Chodrön would say, we all need to lighten up and let it go, and act with kindness and compassion. And then there is the quote by Oscar Wilde, “morality is knowing where to draw the line.” This is a good measure to embrace, lest we should pull out the heart of someone we love, who may, or may not forgive us.

Love