« Still Rolling as the Temperature Drops | Main | Goodbye, October »

November 02, 2009


What a wide-ranging and very interesting post, Beth. It brought a few things to mine, aside from my own experience of these days of remembrance of the past. The idea of a way station between your identities place intrigued me. A yoga teacher friend who lives and teaches in Halifax offers a discussion of "third place" on his blog, and incorporates this into discussions in various of his classes. The third place, which is not home, and not work. And is public.

Anyway, the post made my thoughts wander from place to place, past and present, and even future. Thanks.


p.s. Have you read Diana Abu-Jabar's novels (and memoir)? If not, you are in for a treat.


Thanks, Teresa - that's so interesting about this yoga teacher's concept of "third place" - could you send me the link? And yes, I've read "Crescent" (and liked it) but none of her other books yet. Do you have favorites?

If anyone would like to read the discussion about "Third Space", Teresa did send the link and it's here, well worth thinking about: http://theyogaloft.ca, under the tab labeled "Community."

I love the idea of a Heaven of cucumbers and baklava!

I love the way this ponders and passes from one thought and idea to the next, conveying the image of you sitting there in the cafe contemplating and thinking.

The 'Third Space' is, I think, very much what is in the mind of my university colleagues - the ones who are more pro globalization than anti, although they are certainly not in favour of its devastating economic and political effects on the most vulnerable. I share their feelings about the essential, unbreakable creativity and self-renewing capacity of this space, and the way that increasingly travel, migration and exchange ensure that it keeps growing and reproducing itself. But I find it harder to equate this with a basic support for globalization and belief that we just need to reform its priorities - I'm not that optimistic. But the kind of thing evoked here stops be from being entirely pessimistic either.

Wow, what a rich and thought-provoking small reading experience and discussion - thank you.

Small cucumbers. Finally, a vision of heaven I could die for.

Kristen: Yes, and it would have the relief of COLOR, not just the boringness of "glittering" gold and "dazzing" white - epithets repeated so frequently in Christian literature that they seem Homeric!

Hi Jean, thanks for the comment, and your expansion of the idea of Third Space to include a reflection on globalization.

Spongebelly, welcome! I wonder if the small cucumbers I'm thinking about - the 4-6 inch Lebanese or "baladi" kind that never have tough skins or big seeds - are widely available now?

A local farm stand in Eastern Long Island, not my organic CSA, but the proprietors of my sincere pumpkin patch, grow and sell small cucumbers they call Kirby. Especially when harvested small, they are thin-skinned and small-seeded. Not what is illustrated here as Mediterranean cucumber, which I haven't seen locally.

Aha, a whole page of cucumber varieties! Yep, it's the Mediterranean one I'm talking about, and the relative size shown here is correct. They're dense and extremely flavorful, and not watery or seedy so they're excellent for grating or slicing and combining with yogurt (though I still squeeze and strain the pulp first) as well as eating fresh, like a fruit. The Kirbys are what I used to grow and use for pickling, and they're delicious too but quite different.

'World Music', we are given to understand, is a musical confluence, a synthesis, that is an inevitable product of late 20th century post-culturalism. Your final meditation on 'one equal music', Beth, informs us that it's always been in place - we just choose not to acknowledge its glories and its significance. A great post.

The comments to this entry are closed.

My Photo

Who was Cassandra?

  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.