Ramadan is around the corner, and I have noted that my past several posts have been less than positive. True, I am struggling with some exceptional loads right now, and I have found a dangerous rut lately. The pain I am feeling, physical and mental is overwhelming at times. Despite all this, I do have points of refuge - several wonderful friends, and my faith. My good friends distract me for a bit, and prayer clears my mind for a time. And although I quickly drift back to the blackness, I am drawn out more easily,and I have found I need to leave a few things there. As Faulkner noted, we cling to those things that rob us.
So I am letting go, and moving forward. I will refocus my energies on those who have supported me, and returning to the disciplines demanded by my God. I know it will be difficult, but in many ways, I have no choice left. I will not be a casualty of my own poor choices, my misguided sense of love and friendship. I need to go out and buy some buttermilk and dates................:)
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Bayan of the Hundred Eyes
I am not sure she will appreciate the comparison, but my friend Bayan is aptly named, perhaps after Kubla Khan's greatest general, Bayan of the Hundred Eyes. Not that Bayan ever killed anyone or came riding in off the steppes sword in hand, but she could have been a general in her own right if she had wanted to. Instead, she chose to be a teacher and then a principal, thus crossing paths with me in London, our intersection between Ohio and Iraq.
My first impression of Bayan was a curious one indeed - she was far too busy too often, doted on most everyone, and took everything I said far too seriously. Dealing with her was enjoyable though, in the sense that I always had the enviable task of assuring her things were not as urgent as she imagined. She was conscientious and caring in a chaotic way, the kind of person who would always be busy even if there was nothing to do. But unlike so many other chronic scramblers, Bayan was not motivated by vanity or the need to be perceived as important or indispensable, she just cared about everyone around her. I always liked that about her, but I don't think I ever told her so.
Bayan was very intelligent, and she always tried to dismiss her intellect to the regions of intuition and experience, shying away from cerebral affirmation. Actually, I had a lot of fun with that. I teased her, trying to provoke some sort hiatus on her perpetual humility, and she eventually clocked in and coyly sidestepped my best efforts - just another indicator of her sharpness. Honestly, she just might have been the most intelligent person I had met in a long time. I never told her that either.
The best part of working with Bayan (other than her very genuine habit of praising me) was helping her connect that perceptivity to theory and research. She was very willing to learn and improve, a great compliment to her native abilities. I pushed her at times, and she always rose to the occasion. I was never so pleased as when I learned she was continuing her formal education. Humble, humorous, and hungry - the school, its staff, children, and parents are very lucky to have her. I think they know that, although that is another thing I never told her.
Like many other people in my life, I didn't part company with Bayan like I would have liked to. Before I left London, things at the school were changing (for the worse, I believed), and Bayan did what she had to do, what she should have done for her welfare and that of her staff and students. I let her know, not so subtly, that I was irritated with her, and that is a regret I will always oblige, for no one deserved my disdain less than she. Perhaps it was her forgiving nature and my ugliness that allowed it happen. I never apologized to her for that.
Bayan and I have remained in contact, and I treasure her friendship. For Bayan did something for me that no one else would have - she supported me in a personal matter when I thought I could find no support, no understanding. Ultimately, I was not successful, but she did more than her part, more than I could have asked for. Sadly, I am not sure I thanked her appropriately for that either.
But I am smiling as I write this homage, knowing that Bayan is in London taking care of the school I loved, nurturing the people I cared so much for, and will forever be in my corner, at least metaphysically. And as I think about it, Bayan of the Hundred Eyes is a suiting sobriquet for her, as she is always watching out for everyone, always where she needs to be for a friend, and is now adding so many new perspectives to her repertoire as she somehow makes time for her education. So yeah, a hundred eyes is appropriate, or even a hundred hearts......
My first impression of Bayan was a curious one indeed - she was far too busy too often, doted on most everyone, and took everything I said far too seriously. Dealing with her was enjoyable though, in the sense that I always had the enviable task of assuring her things were not as urgent as she imagined. She was conscientious and caring in a chaotic way, the kind of person who would always be busy even if there was nothing to do. But unlike so many other chronic scramblers, Bayan was not motivated by vanity or the need to be perceived as important or indispensable, she just cared about everyone around her. I always liked that about her, but I don't think I ever told her so.
Bayan was very intelligent, and she always tried to dismiss her intellect to the regions of intuition and experience, shying away from cerebral affirmation. Actually, I had a lot of fun with that. I teased her, trying to provoke some sort hiatus on her perpetual humility, and she eventually clocked in and coyly sidestepped my best efforts - just another indicator of her sharpness. Honestly, she just might have been the most intelligent person I had met in a long time. I never told her that either.
The best part of working with Bayan (other than her very genuine habit of praising me) was helping her connect that perceptivity to theory and research. She was very willing to learn and improve, a great compliment to her native abilities. I pushed her at times, and she always rose to the occasion. I was never so pleased as when I learned she was continuing her formal education. Humble, humorous, and hungry - the school, its staff, children, and parents are very lucky to have her. I think they know that, although that is another thing I never told her.
Like many other people in my life, I didn't part company with Bayan like I would have liked to. Before I left London, things at the school were changing (for the worse, I believed), and Bayan did what she had to do, what she should have done for her welfare and that of her staff and students. I let her know, not so subtly, that I was irritated with her, and that is a regret I will always oblige, for no one deserved my disdain less than she. Perhaps it was her forgiving nature and my ugliness that allowed it happen. I never apologized to her for that.
Bayan and I have remained in contact, and I treasure her friendship. For Bayan did something for me that no one else would have - she supported me in a personal matter when I thought I could find no support, no understanding. Ultimately, I was not successful, but she did more than her part, more than I could have asked for. Sadly, I am not sure I thanked her appropriately for that either.
But I am smiling as I write this homage, knowing that Bayan is in London taking care of the school I loved, nurturing the people I cared so much for, and will forever be in my corner, at least metaphysically. And as I think about it, Bayan of the Hundred Eyes is a suiting sobriquet for her, as she is always watching out for everyone, always where she needs to be for a friend, and is now adding so many new perspectives to her repertoire as she somehow makes time for her education. So yeah, a hundred eyes is appropriate, or even a hundred hearts......
Thursday, October 7, 2010
My Favorite Movies Part IV, Post 1970
This is probably my favorite movie that not too many people have seen. I believe it was made for cable tv. Regardless of its provenance, it is a fantastic film. It also holds the distinction of being the only movie I love that everyone I refer to it, likes also. Pretty high praise given my dubious taste!
The movie details the decade long search for the Soviet Union's most notorious prolific serial killer, Andrei Chikatilo.
It is in essence, a detective story. It is also a study in Jobian patience. It is also a buddy movie. The fact that it is centered around a serial killer is almost irrelevant.
The plot revolves around a new pathologist (Stephen Rea) who learns shortly into his tenure that there is a serial killer in the area. He is a very quiet, serious sort who wants to dive in and solve the case. His job is quickly complicated by the Soviet machine and its bureaucracy and ideology. His boss, played by Donald Sutherland, is more of a hindrance than help (so he thinks), and the two go back and forth as more bodies, mostly children, pile up. There are deeper levels of politics involved, but the story revolves around their different ways of navigating the system. Slowly, a friendship evolves under the most dire of circumstances.
Eventually the duo do make headway, particularly when they elicit the aid of a psychiatrist, brilliantly portrayed by Max Von Sydow. He has the greatest job in the film, notably commenting on the nature of the two men and their relationship. This is capped off towards the end of the film when he looks at Rea and Sutherland and says "together you make a fine human being."
They eventually solve the case, and each man learns from the other. It is a good lesson for those of us embroiled in our own red tape quagmires. Patience, politics, picking your battles, slow burning passion, and a begrudging friendship make for a slow-moving, delicious character study - and, oh yeah, there are 50 plus murders. The violence is graphic, perhaps necessary for us to understand the underlying implosion of the lead detective and the eventual risks his boss undertakes. It is very close to a perfect movie.
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