The Right Side of the Womb

Twenty-six years ago, my cousin Maureen Elizabeth Kelly graced the world with her birth.  I swear the sun has shone brighter since.  Known affectionately to many as Mo, her mother has always said that she "woke up on the right side of the womb".  Twenty-six years of friendship with this beautiful, bright, creative woman and I agree whole-heartedly.

A few weeks ago, and I cannot remember what prompted this question, I asked my housemates who is the happiest person they know.  My answer was a resounding, "Mo!"  Her natural way is to live life with joyful fervor and rich appreciation.  In the brief eight months we lived together, I noticed Mo to be a person who smiles more often than not.  Sipping her morning mug of coffee, while listening to a.m. jazz?  Smiling.  Tiny, red-toed feet crossed and perched upon the table, while reading the travel section in the Sunday New York Times?  Grinning.  Bustling about the kitchen, slicing up a green apple and some aged cheese?  Smirking.  Setting out into the day with that eternal spring in her step and cello strapped proudly to her back?  Beaming!  I don't know what her secret is...  and perhaps it's as simple of the right side of the womb...  but Mo has a way of allowing happiness and embracing pleasure.  She lives her life not in an "if-only, either-or" way, rather with a "why-not, can-do" attitude.  I adore and admire Mo Kelly and celebrate her today.

Here she is...  all smiles!  This photo was taken right after my marriage, the eve of which Mo slept next to me.  Thank you for sharing years of such comfort and abiding friendship, dear cousin.

Are you familiar with eudaimonia?  Read up, it's wonderful!  The good composed of all goods!  And I think it has to do with Mo's gift for living life.  Here's a related excerpt from a Huffington Post article that I really like.  

Cobbled from the Greek eu ("good") and daimon ("spirit" or "deity"), eudaimonia means striving toward excellence based on one's unique talents and potential—Aristotle considered it to be the noblest goal in life. In his time, the Greeks believed that each child was blessed at birth with a personal daimon embodying the highest possible expression of his or her nature. One way they envisioned the daimon was as a golden figurine that would be revealed by cracking away an outer layer of cheap pottery (the person's baser exterior). The effort to know and realize one's most golden self—"personal growth," in today's lingo—is now the central concept of eudaimonia, which has also come to include continually taking on new challenges and fulfilling one's sense of purpose in life.

Cheers to happiness, everyone!  Cheers to Mo!

And read her blog, if you haven't.  One of her many daimons that'll charm your pants off.  60 Beans Per Cup!

The Eve of Birth

Driving up Pleasant Street toward Newton Square two nights ago, I saw the nearly full moon.  For now, big moons still remind me of my daughter.  She is nearly thirteen weeks old and was born at 4:20 p.m. under the rising supermoon of June 23.  On the eve of her birth and this rare lunar event I toured Coptic Cairo with Justin and our midwife, Erika.  Feeling nostalgic, I spent some time this week looking through photographs of this trip and would like to share them here.

I apologize for not offering more history of Coptic Cairo or explanation of the photos.  My mothering mind and body are as bleary as my eyes these days.  And although I so clearly see writing ahead of me, it remains more or less beyond my reach.  Looking at the images without a complete understanding actually feels more apropos to my supremely pregnant and somewhat disorienting experience in this very old part of the city (the Coptic Orthodox Church is believed to have been established in the first century).

We walked for hours under a severe Egyptian summer sun, among giant stone angels, tombs, crosses, and mausoleums.  Churches from as far back as the year 690 were literally above and below us.  The Hanging Church, which is built suspended over a gatehouse of Babylon Fortress, swallowed us whole.  In hindsight it was an awfully wild place to be on the eve of May's birth.  The moon and ancient holy temples above drew my gaze heavenward; May and an ancient fortress below pulled my being downward.  I felt stretched...  or better yet, dilated...  in every direction.

If you feel like getting lost in nearly two hundred images of this ancient place, click here to view our full (un-edited) album.