#72: Serendipity Doo-dah

Picture if you will, a dessert dreamland; I’m talking Willy Wonka magnitude. Colorful decorations and Tiffany-style light fixtures, small round tables reminiscent of just about any classic ice cream cafe, and the rich smell of chocolate, ice cream, and everything sweet in world all right through the tight New York City street-side door of Serendipity. I’m probably overstating the grandiosity of the place, but in my childhood memories, this place might as well have been Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. It’s the place where parents brought their kids to celebrate, grown-ups went to feel like kids again, and tourists came to check out the hype and satiate a sweet tooth. You could find burgers and sandwiches and maybe some other lunch fair, but everyone really came for the desserts. Serendipity was known (still is) for the Frrrozen Hot Chocolate (and yes, that’s how they spell it on the menu). It’s hard to describe this seemingly one-of-a-kind dessert in a way that does it justice, so I won’t even try. Most anyone has enough reference to imagine what it would be like. Think that and then think 10 times better. Suffice to day, it was well worth the brain freeze to sip off this bigger-than-your-head deliciousness until you were subdued into a bloated-bellied sugar coma (again, so worth it).

If you ever take a trip to NYC and you’re a fan of ice cream and frozen desserts you can hide behind, I highly recommend you stop by Serendipity. But why this walk down memory lane? It’s really about the word: serendipity. I like it. No, I love it. Five quick rolling syllables that ibbity-bibbity off the tongue, especially the final three. First half of the word all above the line and the second half dipping below, it has two general meanings, which are directly related. In short, one means lucky or good fortune, and the other means an occurrence of events by chance in a happy way. In summary, the word basically means lucky, wouldn’t you say? Serendipitous, fortuitous, lucky. That’s how I always felt when from the time I was probably about 5 through ten or eleven, my parents took my sister and me to Serendipity.

And now you’re wondering what all of this has to do with the prompt…

It amazes me how experiences are so powerful in building vocabulary, knowledge, and schema. (I know I sound like a teacher, but some things just can’t be helped.) The experience of Serendipity made it so easy for me always to remember the word and what it means. It’s a meaning by association, not by dictionary, and it is not exact but it is concrete. It’s actually the way we want young people to learn word meanings so they can internalize, own and collect words to use across contexts. But I diverge. All of this had me thinking about an interesting prompt. Use it if it works, or perhaps my walk down memory lane will take you in another direction.

Think about a word that has strong memory or imagery for you. You think of this word and you always create a certain picture in your mind for it based on experience, or you hear a certain song or voice, or you smell the same aroma. you understand. What do you experience through your senses immediately as word association. For the writing exercise, use it to inspire a vivid imagery poem, a memoir or story, or just share the thoughts and feelings about the word in an interesting way. For example, what I did above is just a think out loud of the experience. I might use it to write a story in the setting of Serendipity, or to write an ode to the delicious Frrrozen Hot Chocolate dessert of my childhood.

Do what ever you want, fellow word nerds. Think of a word and get creative. Perhaps you will encounter a word serendipitously that will send you right where you need to go! Ok, that was bad but so what. Have fun….

In case you were curious, here are a couple of pics of the famous dessert I nabbed from reviews online:

I Got This

Response to #71: Reflection

Lately, when I look in the mirror I see a chameleon. I peer straight into my own eyes as I start each day and strangely, I think of the song from A Chorus Line.

What does he want from me?

What should I try to be?

So many faces, all around and here we go...

But he is really they and they is really everyone and the next line in the song is I need this job, but I don't need a job. I'm justing thinking about how I am going to be everything to everyone today. I'm thinking about the right facial expression the appropriate tone in my voice and the right time and situation to start a conversation or to ask a question. What to cook, what time to be here or there, or to serve dinner. There is so much going on in my world right now. I'm standing in the cone of a tornado, everyone and everything spinning up and around me, and I'm trying to keep it, all of it from blowing away. 

I get up, quietly in the dark early hours of the morning, I step into a hot shower. I stand with my feet planted, and I concentrate on grounding, pushing my feet to the tile. Looking in the mirror today, I look right through the dark circles and the swollen lids. Remarkably, I think I got this. And I do.

 

 

Surviving the Peace

 Response to Prompt #71 Reflection

This morning I was reflecting on what occurred in the classroom yesterday, marveling at an experience that, frankly, took me by surprise. Then I picked up the Anthology of Native Nations Poetry that Annmarie gave me (When the Light of the World was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through) and read the poem "Shrinking Away" by Jim Northup. In his bio, it explains that Northrup is a Vietnam War vet, and many of his poems are about the conflicts and struggles he has had. At the end of this particular poem he says

That's when I realized that

surviving the peace was up to me

 and this is what I wrote in response to his words...

Don't we all

come to that

conclusion

over and over

again?

Even as

we hear this

advice, it is

incredibly 

hard to

apply.

 

The only way

to have peace

is to BE PEACE.

 

I mean

honestly,

when you grow

up with conflict

always around you

it is hard to 

truly embrace 

peace. 

You get used

to surviving

the conflict

that you

have no 

experience

in surviving

peace.

 

Yet,

I feel

so much

of my

life has

been 

focused on

peace.

The desire,

the need,

the want

of it.

 

So I was 

actually 

surprised

when I fell

into a 

peaceful 

state and 

stayed there.

The entire

day, class

after class.

I never 

wavered

from a

kind of 

soul peace 

that seemed

to inhabit 

me fully.

 

I was somehow

no longer

feeding into,

or reacting

in any way to

the conflict

and chaos

and confusion

that comes

with middle

schoolers.

 

As the day

wore on,

I continued

to witness

this, and it

never changed.

Nothing rattled

me. I just 

kept this 

peaceful posture 

up until

the very end.

 

So...

I reflect now...

Was this 

the real thing?

Will I walk

in Monday

and Be Peace

once again?

Did this 

experience

reflect a

truth of

who I

have

become

after

all 

this 

time?

Response to #71: Mirror of Terror

2/6/22 

Years ago, I had a nightmare that shook me to the core. It was so terrifying that for months I avoided looking in the mirror when I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

I remember it clear as day. I was in the pool bath of our home, washing my hands. When I glanced in the mirror, it was my face, but the voice pleading help me was not mine. I was possessed by something sinister, something I desperately wanted to be free of. 

I awoke with a start, my heart pounding, goosebumps covering my entire body, every cell charged with electricity.  It was a quick nightmare, a blip compared to my usual, seemingly never-ending dream sequences, a few seconds of terror that kept me up the rest of the night, afraid to close my eyes and return to that awful place. 

Now that I'm removed from it, I can examine the dream for possible meanings. How many times have I looked in the mirror and not recognized the person blinking back at me--times where I feel one way to have that reflection tell a different story? The times where I've slapped on a smile, only to have my eyes reveal the malaise that lurks beneath the surface. The times when I look sad and tired but feel light and energetic. The times I think I look good, only to have John flick on a different light and suddenly a haggish face appears. The times I feel gross but see the reflection of a beautiful woman. 

The adage looks can be deceiving rings true. 

I see that dream for what it (most likely) was now. It was a desperate plea, but not from a demon-possessed version of myself. It was a plea from my soul to make necessary changes, to let go of things that were haunting me, to worry less about every little thing that could go wrong and delight in the things that were going well. 

I finally did answer that poor soul's plea for help. I began to put her at the top of the list, to attend to her physical, emotional, and spiritual self in ways that worked for her, instead of buying into all the "shoulds" from her upbringing and society. 

I've had a few other nightmares since then that make me wake up with goosebumps, those that have me avoiding the mirror as I wash my hands post-pee. I'm not quite sure what I'm trying to avoid in those moments, but I do know that I have the strength and resilience to face whatever comes my way in the light of day.