Early Morning Flow

By Deborah Sandweiss

Early Morning Flow is a collection spanning 20 years of Deb’s life. Discover the freedom of cycling the California coast and explore the terrain of body image. Deb’s work with young people from the San Francisco Bay Area gives us a glimpse into the complex world of teaching. The grief of a lost pregnancy and the joy of her son’s first steps takes us into the mysterious world of parenting. Deb tunes into the moments of our lives that make up our humanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: May 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483410487

Book preview

SANDWEISS

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Sandweiss.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1047-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1048-7 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 4/8/2014

Acknowledgements

My friend, Jen, and I used to write dreams on paper napkins while sipping cocktails in our twenties. Forty is the year to share my voice. A special thanks to my dad who gave me a leather binder to hold my writing when I was young. Thanks to my mom and brother, Dave, for encouraging all of my endeavors. My husband, LaRon, has made it possible for me to live my dream. I hope by example that I encourage Quinn to follow his passions. My Aunt Flora reminds me to keep having fun and do new things. Steph, Beth, Jen, Keri, Kim, Erin, Dana, Gini, Tonya, Bayardo, Grace, Liz, Sarah, and Melissa, You are amazing women who have inspired me to go for it.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Earth Body

Aunt Flora

Otay Lakes

Finishing First

Golden Gate Park Skate

Time

HATE

The Morning Weigh

The Sin of Eating

Cheetohs

Esperanza

Cat Calls

Immigrant Seat

Kayak Alaska

Maria

Isaac

Jorge

Living in a Bubble

A San Francisco School

Tackle

Wedding Day

Happy Father’s Day

Sleep

Holding Quinn

Pick Up

Rolling the Ball

Independence

Loss Among Miracles

Early Morning Flow

The Wave

Porch Light

My Religion

Still Moments

Reading the World

Palmer Girls

275 Sin Letra: Guadalajara

Salvador, Brazil

Alice Fong Yu Morning

Coin-Op Laundry

7th Grade at the Soup Kitchen

Jammin’ Java

Joshua Tree

Ocean Beach, San Francisco

The Birthday

Earth Body

I go inside myself, not to the dreams, the light, the wonders of the world.

But to my limbs, the memory of my body laying inside my twin bed as a little girl,

my mother sitting beside me, walking me from toe to skull to bring me to sleep.

To that other place I will not visit now, for I cannot will myself there. I am an earth body.

My feet ground into the green carpet, my arches lift slightly. I’m not bearing all my weight upon my feet, so my pronation isn’t so pronounced. I still haven’t gotten those inserts. My stuck toe is permitted to be still but I still wonder why it doesn’t bend just right and think back to the soccer season where my cleats felt too small. I crunched my toes and ran with them curled and cramped and eventually a bruised toenail fell off and it was then that I bought new ones. Why have my feet grown as an adult? They say sometimes the bones spread out.

I am an earth body.

But maybe that stuck toe related to my sick ankle. It’s rolled countless times on soccer fields across the state. It’s been taped and massaged, rested and iced. I balanced on the leg for strength and finally decided to leave soccer. My ankle will carry me through life. Leaving soccer meant leaving a piece of my ego, my identity, and finding myself.

I am an earth body.

My mother’s soft voice caressed me when I couldn’t fall asleep. Lie on your back, arms at your side, she’d instruct. Tighten the muscles in your feet. Squeeze tight, as hard as you can, and now release. Now, go to the muscles in your calves… Up my body she’d travel, and I’d squeeze those muscles with all my might, I willed myself to stiffen and strengthen and tire myself so that I had no choice but to beg relaxation in my mind and beckon sleep. But mom walked me through the terrain of my body. My earth body.

I sit upright in the chair, knees directly over my heels, like Eva taught me in yoga. Alignment. I feel the slight pulse where my shin has tightened from my morning jog, and then concentrate on the backs of my legs pressing into the orange fabric. My bottom feels welded to the chair after hours of sitting. Stillness in my body, movement in my mind. Thinking, writing, straining, listening. Mental exercise tires me and brings me astray. I am not my thoughts. I am this body with its aches that I can identify and changes that I understand. The place I call home. I am an earth body.

Squeeze those gluts. I willed myself tighter, and later, I covered my butt with a sweatshirt around my waist. If this was what being a woman was about, I wanted no part of it. Resisting the curves and the roundness, afraid of the