Tigers and One Red Kite


 This strange season

Two things I can’t get used to – the different smells and the sky. I brace myself as I walk out of my door every morning. The air smells like hot, sweet petrol. Breathing is like biting off chunks of air.
I asked XinXin this evening if the sky ever cleared. “Oh, yes, one day last year the sky was blue and there were even clouds in the sky.”

The sun is a hazy patch in the smog as it rises in the morning and then is not seen again. I watch from the window in my room as the orange smudge marks another day in China. Behind is me the ironing board bed, already made. On the dresser, a green flask of tepid water and a pear that looks like a Harvest moon.

On a good day, the tops of the buildings are visible. My eyes are constantly gritty, and my nose runs non-stop from the irritation. When I get home, I’m going to lie on the grass and feel the space under my tall African sky. The low, grey sky makes this a strangely closed, colourless place. There are no birds – saw one in the park on Saturday and you’d swear I’d spotted a lion.

There are days that I’m so tired, I feel like I’m falling down inside my skin.

The above is an extract from the journal of my three-month sojourn teaching communications in Baijaio, on the outskirts of Beijing. China has been at the forefront of the news, so my time there has been in my thoughts. It was a time of solitude, in a way. In the area where I was based, there was no English of any sort and so I chose to see my adventure there as a retreat and a time to learn about myself. Every night, no matter how tired I was, I wrote about the events of the day. On a Sunday, I would look back over the week and find the threads and patterns of my own behaviour and responses to the world. We are a series of patterns and being able to identify our patterns is fascinating, humbling and empowering.

This strange season in which we find ourselves feels a little like that adventure in Beijing. I went back to my journal today and found a picture that I had drawn. My students dubbed me ‘Tiger Woman’; it was a term of respect and one that I loved. There were days when I was tired and dispirited, but somehow, having the name called out my better self. (Although, there were, and still are, days when a tiger claw is unsheathed.) My rough tiger drawing is based on a Chinese proverb: ‘In drawing a tiger, you show its skin, but not its bones; in knowing a man, you may know his face, but not his heart.’ I have put my own note beneath the drawing: I want to know my bones.

It’s time for Tiger Woman to emerge from the jungles of anxiety and fear. I have learnt a great deal about my ‘bones’. I’ve broken a number of them, and they have healed. I’ve faced heartbreak and hardship, but I’m still here. So are you. Look back at what you have lived through. Can you see the stripes of the tiger emerging? Woza, woza, this is the time for courage.

This will be another retreat for me. I am a reluctant keeper of journals, perhaps because they are so revealing, but I am going to journal every day. Why not join me? We have time now to go beneath surface, down to the bones. We are going to need to know what we are made of.

This afternoon I walked to the JinJan Laundry. The streets were busy – crossing the main road with its lanes of cars, the ubiquitous bicycles, donkey carts and taxis is always a challenge. I felt the weight of being alone in the middle of a world that wasn’t mine. On the other side of the street, I stopped to gather myself and looked up. Against the grey sky was a single, bright red kite. My mood suddenly soared and took flight with the kite. This is hard but its not forever. Learn what you can. See everything. Fly, dammit!
 
I’ve never forgotten that red kite. It was a swoop of colour in the grey day. Our smallest actions can fly like kites for others. The kite only flies when there is tension on the string; it has to be attached to the person who is flying it. That fragile connection to one another is more vital than ever.

Oh, and the monsoon winds eventually came, and when they did, the sky was full of kites against a blue sky.

This is Tiger Woman, and I’m looking for kites to fly in a clear sky.

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