Can't Stop the [Innate] Beat

Things set to music look like dance
The seagulls are folk dancing--
moving quick feet while
keeping head still
And reminding us of
constant rhythm.
And we are fluid
and we are liquid
and, when left to nature,
we are motion.
And it is only when
we encounter structure and solidity and self-consciousness
that we question our
singular
inherent movement.
And laws of physics beyond that book
and theories of life beyond religion
are best left unexplained
and always moving.

work dream

Last night I had another work dream. This one needs no Freud to deconstruct:

I was sitting at my desk, in front of my computer, "working." My office is on the basement level of a building, so there is a window next to me that looks out to ground level.
I was doing some 'office chat' with my coworker whose desk faces mine when i noticed that I started feeling funny. She started feeling funny too. Then things started getting cloudy and i looked out the window and there were people working on the building and right when i looked over a huge gust of chemical gas vapor cloud puffed in my face and i did a slow-motion "noooooo!" with a side dive out of my chair and some coughing and belly sliding to escape but i was too late and i had inhaled the chemical and my dream self imagined that they would find me curled up next to my desk and my computer and my files (paper). may my dream self rest in 9-to-5 peace

(more eerie photos here )

self-congratulatory farewell: i feel important.

To the Mentoring Community:

I am writing to inform you that I will be leaving my position as Recruitment Specialist at Mobius in November. I started in August 2008 as an AmeriCorps VISTA member and while my time serving with Mobius was measured in months, what I learned over the past year is immeasurable.

Whether we recruited mentors together, improved opportunities for youth, or networked at an event, I am grateful to have been able to share this time with many of you as we put in a tremendous effort to serve children in our communities.

Mobius and 19 partnering programs reached 800 mentor matches this year for the first time ever. In this economic climate it has been a challenge for most of us as non-profits, but this proves that when we are all seeking to serve children, and to serve them well, through volunteering, donation of money or goods, and resourceful recruitment, we can accomplish the unexpected!

At the end of November, the Mobius VISTA torch will be passed on to Benji Thurber, a Middlebury alumnus who has mentored in the past and, along with Tracy, will add so much to recruitment efforts, mentoring advocacy and public awareness. His email address is benji@mobiusmentors.org; say hello! He will be taking over referrals at the end of November. You can also contact tracy@mobiusmentors.org if you have any other questions.

Thanks, everyone, for helping me find my way throughout the year and for sharing what you know.

All the best,
Meredith Rivlin

workplace haikus

I was an hour late

But didn't miss much; I was

dream-working from home.

Reward is not felt

through updating a spreadsheet.

Can numbers change lives?

Remembering Now

I'm crossing the rocks where we once tried to make our way, once took long awkward steps to avoid towels and legs and Bud-on-ice.

And i tried to imagine when it was Then: my bare skin, arms out falling forward, staring at the bottom of the moody water; remembering months ago when only the falling snow dove in, and the gray and white geese, squawking, had all flown over head, pointing their Vs toward Connecticut, maybe, or did they go as far as Florida? Farther?

And I tried to remember back to Before Then and I can't remember what the slippery algae felt like under my feet, scrambling to get back up to the rock, making fungus jokes just to hear you laugh ("I would lichen this to a great day!").

And bundled up in a black hoodie Now, hair welcomingy touching my neck, I barely remember the smell of or skin all together, as we sat out on the lawn. Our skin was perpetually sticky with sweat and bug spray; tempted sometimes by that gruesome DEET to avoid scratching at our ankles in the sleepless night when the mosquitoes rested their round, red bellies.

And Now i can't imagine anything but Now: the quiet of the lake, void of its boats like a face without blemishes and I'm held to the present by the sloshing of the soft water onto the rocks and into every crevice.