Upon waking on the 18th of this month*, flower bouquets greeted me in two of my favorite places inside our home.
The kitchen table held the joy of these Gerbera Daisies – watching over my morning coffee preparation ritual, prophesying the beginnings of a glorious day.
As I rounded the short distance to my studio, caffeine delight in hand, these Deeply Red Roses nestled within surprised me – lending approval, distinction and beauty to the (he)art I create therein.
Both bouquets spoke love from the one who deftly placed them in their respective spots the night before.
The Gerbera Daisies began to wilt shortly after the first week.
The Deeply Red Roses are still going strong.
In fact, the photo shows them more than holding their own after almost two weeks.
Look closely at the water in the bottom of the vase. Kind of murky and yucky. A great indicator of the age of the bouquet, yet they haven’t even begun to fade or show signs of shriveling up any time soon.
Both bouquets unfurled insight on my entry into the ‘Nines’.
I entered into the ‘Nines’ this year. As stated in the post reference, my times in the ‘Nines’ have tended to be fraught with trepidation. Simply put: my journey through the ‘Nines’ can be a bit rocky.
In a non-angsty way, I have been questioning my own relevance and place in these present times and ridiculously ageist American society since the New Year.
Enthusiastically re-imagining a life-path, I am forging my own way and am confident, yet…?
Over the course of a long love story, what was once a single ‘our song’ becomes a whole playlist of songs. Marking myriad events in the ups, downs; ebbs, flows; crushing sorrows, magnificent joys; everyday living out of our love & life in this world hand-in-hand and in His Hands.
Here then, is one such song released in August, 1983 and added at that same time to our playlist during a particularly defining event that occurred early on in our life path together.
The year was 1983.
We were renting the bottom unit in a quadplex in the heart of the Silicon Valley – San Jose, CA. Hubby pursuing the dream of working for the hottest tech company of the time, Hewlett Packard.
Me? Living life in the Bay area as a new stay-at-home-college-educated Mom of a one-year-old and precariously on track with our fourth pregnancy.
A seemingly viable one after a rocky reproductive history of 2 previous miscarriages: one around 15 weeks (twins) and later, an early ectopic pregnancy that spontaneously resolved itself. Nestled between those, our much wanted beloved daughter, Hava was born!
Over the course of this latest pregnancy at 5 months gestation, the increasingly troublesome eye blind-spot symptoms I was experiencing could no longer be ignored. At the end of my eye exam, the optometrist explained that he ‘could not be responsible for me’ and felt he couldn’t tell me his suspicions on the cause of my blind spots. (Yes, he was an odd duck) Instead, he promptly picked up the phone and scheduled an appointment for me with a neurologist colleague ASAP.
Thus began the whirlwind of expedient & lengthy testing.
Of course, the neurologist explained further concerns at the next day’s appointment. It appears my symptoms suggested two possible diagnoses:
Neither a good choice or something to hope for. But we prayed for the best along with a miraculous intervention.
Apparently, Pituitary Gland Brain Tumors grow exponentially & rapidly if the patient is pregnant – hence the haste with which these medical professionals carried out their testing and treatment plans.
I underwent numerous tests that lasted hours over a two day period prior to an impending operation date within 10-14 days. It was assumed I had the tumor and several tests substantiated those assumptions.
Between sessions, I talked with my OB-GYN to make sure that the scheduled CAT scans (MRIs weren’t readily available at that time) wouldn’t hurt the new life growing inside me.
They wouldn’t.
Further, the doctor spent time patiently answering my flood of ‘what if’ and ‘what about’ questions – mostly focused on how to protect my unborn child from harm during possible brain surgery.
And you know what? My OB-GYN made a point of letting me know that prenatal care is as much for the care of the mother (me) as for the baby! He was there for me, too. Every step of the way.
A few days before the looming ‘possible’ brain surgery was to be performed, the latest CAT scans baffled the medical staff. The original tumor dot cluster seemingly disappeared!
But we knew it was our ‘miraculous intervention!’
Even the neurologist said it was unexplainable (often their way of acknowledging a miracle of sorts).
So they cancelled the immediate mandate to operate post haste.
That left us with diagnosis #2 … which at the time was only confirmed via a spinal tap. I asked if we could postpone that until after the baby was born and/or indefinitely and was told, “Yes”.
Relief. We’d deal with it later, if at all.
Now we could celebrate and enjoy getting ready for our new arrival.
Aside from periodic monitoring with a world renown Neuro-ophthalmologist* at Stanford, I ultimately ended up with a clean slate.
Sadly, I miscarried again**, this time at 6 months gestation.
But the Lord has been my (our) stronghold, And my (our) God the rock of my (our) refuge.
Psalm 94:22 NASB
*there’s an hilarious story that goes with our visit with this doctor, but isn’t quite in line with the focus of this post – perhaps another time it will be told!
**for completion’s sake, we went through 4 more pregnancies, resulting in 2 more live births (middle daughter and youngest son) but losing 2 more babies at 12 weeks gestation each. In total, 9 babies, with 3 live births. All wanted. All beloved.
Khaya Ronkainen is a South African-Finnish writer. Her work is largely inspired by nature but often examines the duality of an immigrant life. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, Seasons Defined and From the Depth of Darkness, published through her imprint. Some of her work has been anthologized as well as featured in various publications. She is currently at work on her third poetry collection about all things pandemic and political. To learn more or connect with her, visit her blog at www.khayaronkainen.fi
Here we come to the third and final part of our (he)art to (he)art interview with Khaya where she elaborates on the universal language of love (part one here, part two here). Please read on to the end where I reveal who won the free autographed copy of her “From the Depth of Darkness”.
LBL: How many languages do you in fact speak and/or understand?
KHAYA: Hmm…let’s see! I speak and understand five of the eleven South African official languages. I also speak Finnish. I’ve also studied a bit of Swedish and basic Spanish. Out of all these, I only speak four fluently, and dream only in two; Xhosa and English.
I dream in Xhosa
LBL: There’s a drastic difference between South Africa and Finland! And yet, you seem to have embraced your adopted home. I suspect that connection was due to falling in love with a Finn!? Care to elaborate on what brought you two together?
KHAYA: True, there’s a drastic difference between these two countries. But there’s not much difference between people; we all want the same things in life. Tell me one person, who doesn’t want to be loved! I’m not talking about romantic love now but a universal love – being seen and accepted for who we are.
What brought us together? [Laughs]…Love, of course, is what usually brings people together. It’s that same love that saw me leave my warm and sunny birth country to embrace long, dark and cold Nordic winters. Love transcends everything, doesn’t it?
But what has kept us together and happy all these years is equally important. Our backgrounds, how we were raised, and our way of thinking are quite similar, even though we were born on the opposite sides of the world. We have so many things in common. For instance, the spirit of adventure (taking risks, being open to things we don’t know and learn, embrace the unexpected) is one of the things we share.
And oh, yes! I have the best in-laws ever. They make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world! So, again, the language of love has played a huge role in embracing my adopted home and vice versa.
LBL:You make building and nurturing relationships seem so easy to do. I assume this is how you approach relationship in your writing world as well, not only with readers but fellow writers.
KHAYA: Exactly. I see the reader of my writing as someone I’m having a conversation with. That is, it’s more than just saying come look, see, I wrote a book and now I’d like you to buy it. But it’s an invitation to explore the world I present in the book with me and exchange thoughts, ideas or even letters. My hope is always for the reader to see themselves in the world I share or learn something new or be inspired to share their world, too.
The same applies to relationships with my fellow writers. I value genuine conversations. Perhaps, that’s why blogging is my favoured way of interacting with other writers and writing communities. It allows for depth; learning more about the person behind the avatar. I like learning about how other writers and creatives, at large, navigate their worlds; the sharing of challenges and victories as our words find a home or take off to delight readers, wherever they find them. So, as it’s been said over and over again, “Other writers are not your competition but asource of support.” Because who else fully understands the struggles and joys of the writing life than another writer.
So, in closing, I’d like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to you for this meaningful conversation. I hope you and your readers will enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed answering your questions. Thank you so much. And here’s to October!
LBL: …and to October babies! 🙂
And the winner is…L. Marie! Congrats!
Please comment below and I’ll send on your autographed copy of “From the Depths of Darkness” via snail mail shortly.
Note: Fabrics in photo are traditional South African shweshwe cloth – sent to me by a dear SA quilter recently. I thought they added a little something to the display of Khaya’s chapbooks.
Khaya Ronkainen is a South African-Finnish writer. Her work is largely inspired by nature but often examines the duality of an immigrant life. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, Seasons Defined and From the Depth of Darkness, published through her imprint. Some of her work has been anthologized as well as featured in various publications. She is currently at work on her third poetry collection about all things pandemic and political. To learn more or connect with her, visit her blog at www.khayaronkainen.fi
Our (he)art to (he)art conversational interview continues, touching on the power of the written word and language as a bridge…please join us.
LBL: In reading your bio I am reminded that English is far from being your first language and yet it appears to be your language of choice for the written word. Why is that?
KHAYA: The answer is long and complex but I’ll keep it short. English is the main language, in every sphere of my life. I had no choice as history and politics of the day made sure that English and Afrikaans were the languages. So, like most South Africans, I’m multilingual. And even though for Black South Africans, English is officially classified as a second language, many of us have a native-like proficiency. Because we were (and continue to be) exposed to English from a very early age.
While I speak my mother tongue Xhosa fluently, I cannot write it with the same fluency I write English, especially now as I haven’t lived in South Africa for many years. By this I mean, I have to move slow and be diligent when writing or reading long Xhosa texts.
Finnish is another dominant language in my daily communication. Nonetheless, at home (in Finland) we speak English, except with a few relatives who don’t speak the language.
I view all these languages I speak as a set of keys to open doors that allow me entry into different worlds.
LBL: Born into the Xhosa community of South Africa, your first language is Xhosa. I assume Xhosa is more of a spoken language so poetry, prose, stories are conveyed more along the lines of a spoken tradition? In light of that, what drew you to the written word? Expressing yourself in this manner?
KHAYA: First, I need to clarify, Xhosa is one of the South African official languages. It’s a standard language that is written, read and spoken. That is, it’s not dialect rather it has several dialects. I can think of seven Xhosa dialects off the top of my head. But you are correct about the oral tradition; the passing of knowledge from one generation to the next through stories, prose, poetry, songs, painting, etc.
I come from a tradition of oral storytelling, which means I grew up around stories. Retelling of Xhosa tales, was a pastime that lit our household with excitement in the evenings.
Anyway, what drew me to the written word? First, I’m an introvert with some elements of extroversion. I simply prefer to write rather than talk. So, letter writing was the art form I was drawn to first. At the time, though, I didn’t know or do it as an art but a pastime to share my thoughts. Second, I find power of the written word unmatched.
“Some of the important parts of life are not visible in pictures: ideas, insights, logic, reason, mathematics, intelligence. These can’t be drawn, photographed or pictured. They have to be conveyed in words…and can only be understood by those who have acquired the superpower of reading.”
LBL: In what other languages do you write? And do you find it difficult creating poetry in languages and in context of a culture/society not native to your personal experiences/knowledge?
KHAYA: I once mentioned on Instagram that one of the things I’m embarrassed about is that I can’t even write a poem in my mother tongue. Because I’m gradually losing my Xhosa vocabulary. A shift (or even death of a language in some cases) is the downside of being a multilingual. But the upside? I view all these languages I speak as a set of keys to open doors that allow me entry into different worlds.
As for difficulty in creating poetry in languages not native to me, I can’t say because I write mainly in English. As for difficulty in creating poetry in context of a culture/society not native to me, my poetry (even though largely inspired by nature) is influenced by cultures and societies I live in as well as diverse personal experiences/knowledge. So, the difficulty might be making art itself, but not due to a lack of perspective or material.
LBL: I asked you to sign a copy of your From the Depths of Darkness I’m giving to my middle daughter as a gift. The phrase you used in the inscription “For what is language but a bridge!” reflects on your own passion for building bridges with your own mastery of several languages. You seem to be driven by a deep desire to communicate, connect and enable community among people from all walks of life and cultures.
KHAYA: Thanks once again Laura for supporting my work. I thought a lot about what drives my deep desire to communicate and connect. I think it’s due to a number of things, such as my personality, values, worldview and so on. Or maybe it’s just a gift. And if that’s the case, then I’m grateful for it. What I know is that I value authentic relationships with others.
However, I’m also passionate about words. I’m always interested in how they form a language, which we in turn use or respond to. How words can change within a language as we decide who to invite in or keep out. Hence, I see language as a bridge. It’s a tool we all have at our disposal and we, individually, can decide what to do with it.
…to be continued…commenters will be automatically entered into a drawing for a free autographed copy of From the Depths of Darkness…winner will be announced at the end of the third and final part of this interview.
Khaya Ronkainen is a South African-Finnish writer. Her work is largely inspired by nature but often examines the duality of an immigrant life. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, Seasons Defined and From the Depth of Darkness, published through her imprint. Some of her work has been anthologized as well as featured in various publications. She is currently at work on her third poetry collection about all things pandemic and political. To learn more or connect with her, visit her blog at www.khayaronkainen.fi
Depending upon which hemispheric season you find yourself occupying – grab a mug of hot cocoa or a tall glass of iced tea, sit back and savor the following (he)art to (he)art conversational interview.
LBL: Very early on in the perusal of your two chapbooks, I realized an intersection of yours and mine outlook on life. First and foremost, it’s the one of understanding, compassion and experience in being displaced with an even further deep desire to be the troubadour sounding the existence and needs of others in various states of being within displaced communities.
The other main intersection is that of our shared birthday month! Your poem, Summer was a real eye-opener as I think there is a natural tendency for us all to relate deeply to one’s birth month and consequent season associated with it.
What would you have me say of you? Ours is an obscure relationship You led me believe I was your baby A summer baby – Because down south, October simmers Spring overlapping with summer
What would you have me say of you? As if immaterial, now you tell me I am An autumn baby – Because up north, October teases Skies weep fearful of winter.
excerpt from Summer by Khaya Ronkainen
I am an October Baby and my favorite season is Fall. You are an October Baby, yet your point of reference is as a Summer Baby.
That particular poem embodies what it means to be fully displaced – by choice or as refugee or for whatever reason. The seasons are a language unto itself and in this case a literal translation brings about a type of confusion!
KHAYA: In our early correspondence, I expressed my delight in learning about our intersection. But I had already suspected that we might share a similar outlook on life. This was probably from a comment you made on my blog about me being a sensitive poet. That comment made me pause because very few people, even in my family, have that perception of me.
I thought: it takes one sensitive poet to see another. 🙂
Your interpretation of displacement communicated in the Summer poem blew me away. Because I don’t know if any readers of my poetry understood or interpreted the poem as you did!
LBL: Let’s explore this a bit further. We share the same birth month and yet we were born into two different seasons. That is a new perspective for me. We are shaped somewhat by when we were born – and imagining myself as a Spring/Summer child is not only foreign to me, but honestly slightly off-putting.
You however seem to have embraced just such a dichotomy – Southern & Northern Hemisphere Seasonal Duality – fully embracing both birthrights. I can’t help but see the symbolism of this playing out in your poetry reflective of your own personal immigrant journey.
KHAYA: Oh, Laura! You made me laugh with the idea of being a Spring/Summer baby being slightly off-putting! I actually find having a claim on both seasons a beautiful contradiction. I guess because it depicts my life.
Whale watching season, South Africa
Berry picking season, Finland
October’s Seasonal Duality
But you are correct, the dichotomy of seasonal duality is symbolic and plays a huge role in my writing. Poems in Seasons Defined, written over a number of years before being published as a collection, capture this contrast more. They were written from a place of amazement, a sense of awe, not only about love and my second home but I was also seeing my life anew under the microscope of clearly defined Finnish seasons.
I belong to two worlds, and I am at home in both.
Of course, we have four seasons in South Africa but they easily overlap. October, for example, is supposed to be spring but temperatures are already so high that it feels like summer. That’s why I’ve always identified as a summer baby. Then I moved to Finland and what I thought I knew was turned upside down, literally. 🙂
I’ve grown to love autumn, it’s one my favourite seasons. Yet it’s the same season that has the ability to throw me under the bus, if it finds me in a bad mental space. But yes, I’ve embraced it all. I belong to two worlds, and I am at home in both.
…to be continued…commenters will be automatically entered into a drawing for a free autographed copy of From the Depths of Darkness…
That question – cum – title idea for a post has been bouncing around the caverns of my brain for most of this past year. And then a twin question surfaced this Spring as we neared rounding the corner on the Pandemic, bringing with it a glimmer of hope as a surge of people became fully vaxxed (myself included).
What in your life did COVID-19 interrupt?
What in your life did COVID-19 open up?
January 2020 – February 2020 One slice of life we were walking through in bullet points:
After a full year of searching, we finally found a business to buy and were in the final round of negotiations for the sale
We decided on an area of the country to relocate to, were about to finalize the house hunt and then begin moving – after waiting what seemed like forever to finally do this (I was already 50% packed and ready to go since the beginning of 2019!)
Ultimately, we were poised and ready to sign on the dotted line for each of the above
Meanwhile the business sale fell through – but we were still on-track with continuing the house search
I got sick right before our planned road trip for the final house hunt which in turn delayed that focus and entire move – but we viewed that as a mere postponing of the process
Then – March 2020 – COVID-19 took front & center on the world’s stage and everything came to a screeching halt
In our situation, it was more the momentum of our life that got interrupted.
Can a 66 year-old woman begin her own designated Hero’s Journey? Again? Is it too late? Rather, is there time left in her life to dive into yet another Path that would surely reveal itself during that Journey?
In many ways, 2020 has been the dead-end to end the multiple dead-ends I’ve hit over the past few years in my creative life. One could say it has been the ending of an unconscious Hero’s Journey.
My generation has always championed the idea of jumping over one’s shadow. Elements of a traditional “Hero’s Journey” are hardwired into my everyday life. In fact, they were supported and modeled by my folks even as my life took shape. So, facing more adventures, twisty, turny changes, and making do are all just part of the mix. Mostly, knowing that in the midst of it all, surviving & thriving are not mutually exclusive and is a precious insight.
Somewhere along my (he)artist’s way, product and validation overtook process and creation. As such, the muse all but disappeared, the gift all but withered.
The focus to finish and get my project(s) ‘out there’ became so strong it obscured seedlings of exploration, experimentation and self-expression. And in the end, with little to show for that absorbing focus.
The good part to all of this is that the stubborn ruts I’d traveled were more easily seen for what they were – not an obstacle to the Path, but proof that I’d wandered from the Path.
So I have corrected my focus. I am firmly ensconced in choosing repertoire based upon pure desire to play/perfect what I want to play – not based upon some audience type or proficiency parameter. And the composing! Instead of keeping it in check so as not to overshadow my practice time and/or exploration of tangential instruments, I am fully leaning into those juicy sessions.
Yes, I have project(s) that are screaming to be ‘out there’. Many are in fact 99.9% ready to go…but I gave myself permission to just not angst over all the odds and ends I’m clearly not knowledgeable enough to do right now to finish them*.
In other words, I gave myself permission to do what I was meant to do: create music – play around with sound – and commune with the Giver of the Gift in doing so.
Meanwhile, this year marked the entry into one of my favorite type of birthdays – one of duplicate double digits. It’s just one of my things.
The last such marker was 5-5 Revive.
Surprisingly, this year’s spontaneously spoke forth as Route 6-6.
What? Taking to the road again, in this time of lock downs, life threatening environmental obstacles and lack of connection?
Yep. Maybe not literally, but certainly in allowing the muse, my music, to lead the way…instead of my dragging it along with me. Be the conduit, serve the Gift and enjoy the process.
If I am the only one to hear or see or understand what comes forth, then so be it.
But I’m willing to bet this ‘Hero’s Journey’ change in attitude might alter that solo scenario come 2021.
*That’s the extreme down side of all this DIY stuff that goes along with being an Indie (he)artist – having to do all the business stuff, packaging, marketing, registering, licensing, publishing, etc; and finding/hiring qualified people to do the production side of things. It simply is not as easily available as one would think. Not whining, just sayin’…
