Utopian City

My perfect city is one without cars. I somehow got this idea in my head several years ago, and it just wont go away. I dream of smaller cities, where people know their neighbors. I think of self-sufficient neighborhoods that each contain a few small markets and coffee shops. Of course, all of the houses and apartments have luscious gardens filled with many edibles.  In my city public transportation runs regularly and is neither crowded nor expensive. It is a pleasant way to get to work and people spend the ride chatting with their neighbors rather than staring silently ahead.

This perfect city has many healthy inhabitants that walk or ride their bicycles everywhere. It has a green bike system that allows people to leave a bike anywhere and pick up a bike that is not in use. On the outskirts of the city are several car parks where people can leave their personal vehicles. In order to be allowed in the city, vehicles need to be permitted as delivery vehicles, and drivers can only use them during work hours.

It is a slower city. It is a smaller city. People there are not focused on getting to their destination quickly, but in enjoying the journey. It is filled with parks that have lovely paths to walk on. Streets are few, and rather small.

When an awesome person dies too soon due to a vehicular accident, I sigh and long for my perfect little car-free haven. I know it will never happen. People would protest if their cars were taken away. They have a "right," to drive. They would say they "need," their car to get to work or for their social life. In many ways they would be right. The modern world is designed around everyone having a car. Finally, they would say they are sorry for my loss, but cars don't kill people, it is irresponsible drivers, and not everyone should be punished for that. It's true, but I don't care. I would prefer the slow, car-free city.

To all of those who have vehicles in their lives, I implore you:

• Don't drive intoxicated. 
• Don't drive when you are tired. 
• Don't drive in bad weather. 
• Don't text while driving. 
• Don't talk on the phone while driving. 
• Don't play with the radio, gps, or other technology while driving. 
• Remain alert while driving. 
• Respect the vehicle for the large machine it is, and remain aware of the immense damage that it can do in mere seconds. 
• Try to avoid driver's entitlement and road rage. 

Dream a Little Dream

Sometimes I feel most like myself in my dreams. Strange, because in these dreams I am rarely myself.

The other night I dreamt of four different couples. I flitted in and out of all of their bodies. Male, female, all with a different set of desires and reactions. They went about their mundane, daily life and I felt the sun on their shoulders or the way their bodies folded as they lay on a couch. They were being slowly drawn together. In the evening the four couples went to an extravagant ball. I felt their hands clasped in hands, around wasits and shoulders, as they swirled around and around.

The day felt like silk. Not the shiny, satiny silk, but the dull, super soft stuff that feels a bit like marshmellows when you touch it. Too soft for its strength, the juxtoposition makes me shudder like nails on a chalkboard and yet I cannot release it. The ball felt like velvet. Soft. Warm. Inviting. Complete.

I dream in motion. Sometimes I dream in e-motion. Electronic impulses that jump from nerve to nerve. I feel the way they rush up to the precipice, then jump, or fall, or cling until they are shaken off. I feel them swirling in the abyss. Floating. Fast and slow, all at once. Speed is nothing when there is no end.

True, I feel it during the day, too. My tongue running up behind my teeth is a journey. But it is in my dreams that I have a complete surrender to the motion of life. It is then that I feel like I have come into my own, and I am whole.

I chose right...

It's my husband's first father's day! They don't actually celebrate father's day in Bulgaria, but then, I have never seen a Bulgarian father as involved and in love with his son as my husband is.

There are sometimes when I wonder if perhaps Nikola isn't a bit too young for me. Maybe we should have waited for him to experience some more, "real world, life before settling down to start a family. But then I see him with Peatuk, and I know that I am absolutely unfounded in my wonderings.

So, here are 10 reasons Nikola is the best father around:

1. He was very involved with my pregnancy. Perhaps this makes him the best husband, but I think it also contributes to his dad-ness. He held me and cried when I got a positive pregnancy test. He refrained from drinking alcohol almost my entire pregnancy. He took me to every prenatal appointment and helped me translate all of my concerns to the midwife. He grabbed my toe and looked at me with teary eyes the first time we heard Peatuk's heartbeat. Like Ross to Rachel, he helped me find our son when I lost him on the sonogram printout. He made me take my pre-natal vitamin every night, even though I rolled my eyes at him in protest. 
2. He was there every minute of the birth. It is very uncommon for Bulgarian men to attend the birth of their children. Nikola checked into the hospital with me, and did not leave my bedside until Peatuk was born and we were both sure he was safe. Then, he only left because there was no where for him to sit while I slept in the delivery room. 
3. The first time he held Peatuk he looked like a natural. I was afraid to break him, but Nikola was just happy to have him in his arms. 
4. When Peatuk was taken away from us at the hospital to be put on fluids, Nikola was the one to constantly pester the nurses about how he was, and when we could have him back in our room. 
5. He spent countless nights bottle feeding Peatuk my expressed milk while I recovered from birth. When Peatuk could not learn how to suckle at the breast, Nikola went online and found some techniques to teach him how. He spent hours sitting next to me, helping his son learn how to eat, until Peatuk learned a perfectly soft but efficient latch. (Mother and son are grateful for that one.) 
6. Whenever Nikola picks up Peatuk, or plays with him, Peatuk laughs and smiles in a way that he doesn't for anyone else. Our baby ADORES him, and I like to believe our baby has good taste in people. 
7. He goes to check-ups with our little guy, and when Peatuk has to get injections, he is the one comforting the little guy because I can't stand to watch. 
8. He enjoys carrying Peatuk in the mei-tei. The two are adorable friends exploring the world together. Nikola does agood job of keeping him engaged while they go for walks. 
9. Nikola has an abundance of patience. Whether it is rocking Peatuk to sleep, or dealing with random fussiness, Nikola always approaches our baby with kindness and excitement. 
10. He isn't afraid to tell his son how much he loves him. 

So, yeah, Nikola's socks might end up on the floor, and he double checks with me almost every time he has to put Peatuk in a new outfit, but overall, he is one of the most responsible, kind, giving, loving father's I know. There is no one else I would choose over him to have a child with, and I can't wait to watch our son grow together. 

Stillness

Peatuk has gotten into babbling lately. He has also gotten into 'singing,' which, unfortunately, sounds a lot like crying. The only difference is that he smiles at the end, which somehow makes forty seconds of, "Mommy, I think I have to pee," singing quite adorable. It's little things like this that make my life, 'perfect' right now.

But let's think about perfection. Perfection implies some sort of satisfaction. It implies there is nothing left to do. I was socialized as a thirsty American too well to ever allow myself to not want any more. So, even when I am happy, I construct more needs. We need to fully furnish our house. We need to purchase a house. We need a car. We need. We need. We need. Seriously, I no sooner finished a post about how perfect my life is with Nikola and Peatuk than I created a list of all of the things we need to buy in the next year.

I call bullshit on myself.

The truth is, when I sink into the stillness of satisfaction, it doesn't feel like perfection. The bliss of having is short lived. Instead, anxiety starts to swell up. It bubbles. Like carbonation beneath the skin. I feel like a shark that stopped moving: slowly suffocating. The moment I no longer have a goal I feel lost. I feel like I am wasting time. The need to desire, to crave, builds up within me, and more often than not I end up running away from that sensation as quickly as possible. I fill my desire with cheap things that I don't really need. I am that uncomfortable with satisfaction. Or I am not really satisfied.

Either way, I think I need to find a way to pull myself out of this consumer mindset I have began to use as a crutch, and allow myself to really settle into stillness. I need to let myself really feel the anxiety. I need to take the time to honestly reflect. Maybe I will embrace my satisfaction. Maybe I will find out what the real hole I am trying to fill is. Maybe I will find it all to be ridiculous and give up. All I know, is that it needs to be done.