Proud Teeth

"...see how the flesh grows back

across a wound, with great vehemence

more strong than the simple untested surface before.

There's a name for it on horses,

when it comes back darker and raised: proud flesh,

as all flesh

is proud of its wounds, wears them

as honors given out after battle,

small triumphs pinned to the chest--"

--Jane Hirshfield, from For What Binds Us

I find myself imagining that my teeth are truly at battle sometimes, as they are covered in metal armor, offering protection to dentin, enamel, and precious roots inside. Or sometimes I imagine my teeth as young soldiers on the front lines, tightly grabbing their bayonets with wide-open, frightened stares, not knowing what to do exactly. (And certainly not knowing which way to go.) If you replace the word flesh for teeth in this poem, there is something noble in the undertaking of any long term venture like traveling the world, or falling in love where you will ache, you will bleed, and yes, even as I wince writing the word, you can suffer, but you will also find hold your back straighter with your knowing proud flesh and its quiet dignity being given the gift of endurance.

Thanks!

Ok, let's put things in perspective on this Thanksgiving Eve.

I am thankful I have teeth

I am thankful to be cooking with my mom the night before the Big Bird Day

I am thankful, quite simply, for my mom

I am thankful for Penzey's spices

I am thankful for anything made with pumpkin

I am thankful for the smell of ginger on my fingers

I am quite sure there will be more that I'm thankful for tomorrow, but that about covers it for the moment. Enjoy your holiday y'all!

Foolish Phoenixes

I had a friend tell me once that I would be better off if I allowed myself get vulnerable enough to appear foolish more often. I thought this was kind of funny, because I think I appear foolish more often than not. Shoot, you're talking to a woman who fell down a flight of steps at the Louvre (though truth be told the Parisians couldn't have given a rat's derriere), danced table-top on her 21st birthday at a roadside bar, and oh yeah, got braces at age 36 while still contemplating dating.

What's more vulnerable than hearkening back to the time in your life when you felt the most insecure? I feel like I have teenager stamped all over me with these braces, and yet I willingly put myself in that position. It wasn't some decree from a parent. It was all my own doing, thank you very much. I think I was prepared for the physicality of it, but not necessarily the emotional bit that has accompanied it. I thought I had reached that point in my life where I recognized that insecurity wasn't really serving me too well, and I had happily left it by the wayside. (Well, relatively speaking.)

But I suppose that life has a funny way of bringing light to the very thing you're so desperately trying to hide. "That which we resist, persists," says Debbie Ford. I think I've been trying to avoid this very situation my whole life, grateful that I've hung on by my fingernails to the edge of the inner sanctum of Edo. Now, I'm so...well, seen. I've always had a ready smile for both strangers and those I love dearly. Now I think twice before flashing it.

Maybe there's some truth to the fact that I do a pretty good job of trying to appear impassive and impermeable. I went to a career coach who said upon meeting me, "You're very powerful." I laughed. Out loud. (Can you guys imagine? Hardly the first adjective that comes to mind when describing me!) I incredulously asked him to explain the comment and never really got a satisfactory answer.

I'm listening to Joni Mitchell's "Down To You" as I write this:

Everything comes and goes

marked by lovers and styles of clothes

Things that you held high and told yourself were true

Lost or changing as the days come down to you

I get it, Joni. I get it. And I wouldn't mind a little court and spark, either.

Charles DuBois said, "The important thing is this: to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are, for who we can become." So I took my moment, and I continue to continue to take my moment. The phoenix has to build a nest before it sets itself on fire, becomes ash and rises again. It's a process that is long, involved, painful and ultimately redemptive. And of course, phoenixes have gorgeous, shiny teeth, don't they? ;)

Ow!

I have reached the end of my first trimester with the braces. One quarter of a year. 90 days. I must admit, there is something triumphant about this, because honestly, despite the fact that it is ever present in my mind, these past three months have gone rather quickly. It makes me wince to think that I put this off for four years only to find how relatively painless this process has been.

Well, that is until now.

I went to the orthodontist's for my third tightening. In the past, this has been nothing to write home about--a process of changing the rubber bands, adding new ones, and feeling a slight squeezing sensation upon immediately leaving the office, soon to be forgotten. But on Friday, the orthodontist was so pleased with my progress (yay!) that he said he was going to put on a tighter wire. Cavalier, I said, "Bring it on! The tightenings never hurt! I like it when it's tight! I can feel it working, and anything that makes this go faster is most welcome!" I think I even unsheathed my imaginary sword, got all swashbuckling and sliced a "Z" in the air a-la-Zorro.

He put on the wire, and struggled to get the bands on, because it was so tight. This was a whole new ballgame. The teeth REALLY hurt for the first time since I started this whole rigmarole. Suddenly, my inner Zorro wasn't quite so brave, after being bested.

And yet. Despite the pain, there is some bizarre masochistic thrill from actually feeling the teeth move. There was a noticeable difference in my teeth from Friday morning to Friday night, and in this first trimester, one-quarter year, 90 days I can see how much has changed. That is nothing short of miraculous. If all that can happen in three months, I can only imagine what happens in six, or at the end of the year. (Pray with me now, y'all, that this whole process can be finished by then!) My inner Don(a?) Diego Vega will continue to flash this metal grin, so no one will guess that, at the very end, Zorro and I are one in the same, as we tame unruly teeth and flash that brilliant, Hollywood smile while riding off into the sunset! (And instead of being known as Zorro the Fox as is traditional, I'll happily settle for Zorro the Foxy!)

Biting Teeth

"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth," said Alan Watts.

I have been thinking a lot about identity within the context of my teeth. Who is this person who now looks back at me in the mirror? Trying to keep my upper lip over my teeth to close my mouth makes me look severe, like a pissed off school teacher or a mother who simply-won't-take-that-behavior-for-one-more-minute. I don't like it. This is not who I am.

I can see with my own two eyes that my teeth are indeed moving and changing--my chin and cheekbones are straighter--even my profile looks more aligned. I find that I even want to square my shoulders and my hips as I stand and balance myself on swift moving subway cars. I've upped the intensity of my yoga classes, as though the rest of me must keep up with the strong commitment that my teeth have undertaken.

They say that each tooth is energetically connected to the meridians and organs in the body. (Just ask any acupuncturist.) Here, have a look:

http://www.ravecoholistic.com/toothchart.html

Or try this one--I like how interactive it is--just click on any tooth!:

http://www.secretofthieves.com/tooth-chart/tooth-meridian-25.cfm

Funny, if I look at my missing teeth--the molars--and the ones that have moved the most so far--my two upper front teeth--it's remarkably accurate. So we can blame all of my *ahem* more human moods and emotions on the movement of my teeth, right?

I suppose that all this should be a comforting fact, that even after a mere three months the braces have had a tremendous effect, not only on my teeth, but on my whole being. But instead it just makes me realize how much more there is to go, and that gets a little disheartening.

I can think about it this way: It appears that my molars and bicuspids are into bondage lately. I realize it's only a two year phase they're going through and I hope they're getting a cheap thrill by it, because I haven't had one...yet.

Simple Pleasures

Here's what was absolutely grinworthy this weekend:

1. The fact that the rain frightened the soccer players, the joggers and strolling families away and I had Prospect Park almost entirely to myself on Saturday morning. I just opened up my lungs and digested the bright green smell of the trees, the newly seeded grass, and the steamy earthiness of the Fallkill and Amberkill waterfalls. So delightful to simply wander and feel my feet squish under the muddy ground.

2. My niece and nephew are the most precious things on the planet. They were both braiding my hair on Friday night--each on either side of my head. Feeling their tiny fingers in my hair was so surprisingly relaxing, I almost caught myself purring. I melted when my four-year-old nephew asked "Am I hurting you?" When I told him no, he replied, "Good, because I love you." Bionic grin to the nth degree!

3. I have not had one cupcake since Friday, and quite frankly, I'm feeling really good. In fact, I'm sitting here with a cup of Chocolate Raspberry Bliss Tea which I purchased at the Celestial Seasonings factory in Boulder, Colorado (one of my favorite cities in the world.) Sweetened with maple syrup, it's much more satisfying (and cost effective!) than the trendy cupcakes I've been seduced by, for the last few months.

4. Jehangir Mehta is still in the running to be the Next Iron Chef. I'll tell you from personal experience that he is one of the sweetest people I've met. I went to his restaurant, Graffiti, in the East Village a few months ago, and it was truly a wonderful meal. It's a tiny jewel box of a place, and what made it so lovely is that my dining companion and I struck up a conversation with Jehangir (as he served every course to us himself) and we discussed everything from wine to Martha Stewart to cookbook publishing. At that time, he told us that he was flying to California shortly to discuss a new show with the Food Network. Now I know that it was The Next Iron Chef. He embodied noble refinement and I left his restaurant delighted and charmed. (Particularly by the Seaweed Duck Roll with Onion Confit and the Tomato Tamarind Vegetable Buns with Fennel Relish and the Chickpea Encrusted Skate.) I just hope that it's still possible to get in there after the show! (And hopefully after he wins!)

Everybody Has a Hungry Heart

Remember those 10 pounds that I lost when I first got the braces? Well, let's just say, I found them.

I was feeling a bit sorry for myself that I couldn't have the foods that I used to eat, and so I have been loitering in what I am now calling a "cupcake depression." That means I have eaten cupcakes every day for about 2 months. (It's a great way to find pounds that you've lost. They come a-runnin' right back home!) I find myself craving cake, soft breads, anything that is literally providing a form of cushioning, a soft place for me to bump up against, whether that means me, or my interior self.

What seemed like a good idea at the time is now, quite literally making me go soft. I'm getting fleshy and round. I used to be so smart and so sharp, but I feel like I'm dulled around the edges. I know I should simply stop eating the cupcakes--problem solved!--but I cannot stop.

Today, I finally asked my stomach "Are you truly hungry for a cupcake?" and the interior answer was a resounding "NO!" Believe it or not, this surprised me. I asked myself, again, "Really you're not hungry?" I realized I've been trying to feed something in me--a definitive hunger--but apparently not for sugar or treats or soft, easily chewed food.

I started to take stock of my body to see what was really hungry and I finally saw the places that were compensating for the braces. It appears that I'm growing teeth in all the areas within me that are hungry. My feet for example, have a full set of incisors, canines and molars. They are starving to move, to feel grass, sand and dirt underneath them. They'd even settle for a good uninterrupted stretch of concrete. They are just so tired of being still, obediently arranged side by side under my office desk when they want to move! They want to dance! They want to jump like pogo sticks and downward dog. That dog wants a bone to gnaw upon so very badly.

I realized that my heart is growing teeth too. The heart is so close to the stomach that when hunger is concerned it's so easy to get them confused. I think this is why so many who are lonely are comforted by moon pies and ice cream. We think our bellies are grumbly for food, so it makes sense to up the food intake. But after I ate a full farmer's breakfast with eggs and potatoes, basmati rice and saag paneer, a veritable ton of girl scout cookies, a dinner of spaghetti squash with roasted pine nuts and home made cranberry cake (2 slices!), I realized I was full to the gills and with not a stitch of room and I still wanted to keep eating.

It was then that I knew that teeth are popping out all over my body, rising to the surface of my limbs, my organs, trying to sink themselves in, anywhere, because the ones in my mouth cannot do it. They don't want to go soft. They want to sharpen themselves, and crunch and chew, take in experience, break it all down, and digest it, making it wholly a part of me. Perhaps this is the way I have to feed myself now, but it's so new and so strange. I am like an adolescent going through puberty, amazed, embarrassed by all the changes my body is going through. Maybe, if I just allow these new teeth--in my feet, my heart, my lungs--to tell me what they want to eat, I can finally be sated.

This reminds me of The Waking by Theodore Rothke. This passage in particular:

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know

What falls away is always. And is near

I wake to sleep and take my waking slow.

I learn by going where I have to go.

Grinworthy weekend

Please forgive the lag in posts--my computer is wonky and I'm going to have to go down to the Genius Bar at the Apple store and figure out just what in the heck in wrong with it. The entire display--from the icons on my desktop to my webpages are all oversized and distorted. Has this ever happened to any of you? If so, what is to be done? I feel like I have some sort of eye disease--fish-eye-itis, where everthing is all big and googly and off kilter. Hmmm. Maybe my eyes are just matching my teeth and everything is getting distorted before it kind find its balance once again.

Just got back from Texas, and had a great time taking photos. This was one of my favorites and really feels like it captures the heart of Texas:I took this while I was on a boat ride on the San Antonio River. (As a matter of fact, the boat driver was a lovely woman who had braces just like mine!) I was just so charmed because this embodied San Antonio--friendly cowboys who greet you by saying "how y'all doing?" with ready smiles and all the time in the world. It was downright refreshing, and utterly grinworthy!