Answer 1

"I understand life when________."

I think this means, "what do I touch base with to remind me of reality... who I really am and where I really fit in this world?"

And the answer to that is my family.

I don't say God because God can be very confusing... very big and very mysterious. He doesn't always "bring me home" in the sense that I feel safe and at peace.

But my family does.

One conversation with Mom and life starts making sense again. One hug from Dad and it's really actually okay. One crazy laughing session with my brothers or a gossip session with Faith and I remember who I am and where I fit.

Dad, Mom, Jimmy, Fatz, Nathey, Snook and Soo. My luvelies.

Home base.

Stuff of life

I think we all know that we are some kind of mosaic: a compilation of our many - sometimes varied or contradicting - thoughts and experiences. The puzzle pieces that make us up, at some point, become either obvious or obviously ignored by us. It's "the unexamined life is not worth living" concept.
So lately as I've engaged in World Race and talked with new people I realize something: I don't know how to explain myself anymore. I've distanced myself from consistent psychological self-evaluation (which has been good). I think, though, that I need to nail down a few things before I initiate what will surely be the most stressful experience of my life.

So here are the questions I want to ask & answer:

"I understand life when__________."

"I am afraid of__________."

"On a daily basis, I need_________."

"I am good at___________."

"I am bad at___________."

"I believe (with all of my heart)__________."

I think those're the basics. I'll start thinking them through. I actually might not mind comments on this post if anyone wants to share their own musings.

Sounds like blasphemy, sure nuff.

So I'm in year 2 of my obsession with African-American literature... finally getting around to the more popular novel stuff. In incredible similarity with my recent epiphanies I read this:

(enjoy it and think of it in this context: two black women talking, impose the accent, etc.)

Quote -
You telling me God love you, and you ain't never done nothing for him? I mean, not go to church, sing in the choir, feed the preacher and all like that?

But if God love me, Celie, I don't have to do all that. Unless I want to. There's a lot of other things I can do that I speck God likes.

Like what? I ast.

Oh, she say. I can lay back and just admire stuff. Be happy. Have a good time.

Well, this sound like blasphemy sure nuff.

She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.

"The Color Purple" by Alice Walker
(this won the Pulitzer Prize)

My advice? Read this book.

Begin again

Divinely, Dr. Smiley was at my parent's house this weekend. I even took Monday as a personal day... and I'm beginning again. I feel free from my fear: fear of regret, fear of decision-making, fear of judgment. Everyday I can wake up and begin again. He is and He loves me. That is the biggest question I could ever ask ("am I loved?") and the answer is emphatically, YES. I receive that truth. I will fight the good fight... the good fight, btw, is the fight you win.

Here's the story of my life: I will live, then I will die and be with Jesus forever. Everything in the interim is adventuring with Jesus.

Peace? Indeed.

This song speaks - go listen to it if you can at Keyofdavidministries.com

"I will not fear as I wait for the dawn/You keep on holding my hand/
I'm crying out from the depths of my soul/In words I just can't understand/
You have set my feet upon a rock that's not moving/
You have placed a song of hope in my heart and I'm singing/I'm playing/

Lord, do not hold back your lovingkindness/
Lord, do not hold back your mercy/
You are the way and the truth that guides us/
Everyday you are the one who preserves me/

God the great Artist designed you and me/With his will and purpose in mind/
But I keep on striving and trying to be/Someone I've made with my pride/
Now the fires of hell burn hot and try to destroy me/
I run to your will, O God, I know you'll restore me/And reform me/

Lord, do not hold back your lovingkindness/
Lord, do not hold back your mercy/
You are the way and the truth that guides us/
Everyday you are the one who preserves me."

"40" by Jason Upton

"Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us."
Psalm 62:8

How I feel

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH uggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr uuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I mean, seriously. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

"how do you feel?" .... "an-gry."

(Chris Farley right before he destroys a whole restaurant after being served Columbian decaffeinated coffee crystals rather than regular coffee...)

This has been a "surprise, you're drinking decaf coffee crystals" kinda week. Yuck.

A million colors

Laura and I had some great conversations last night. On the way home I was listening to Katie Melua's new cd and this really struck me. Ethics... morality... standards... such a challenge to navigate in a postmodern (or neomodern for Jesse etc.) society.

If a black man is racist/Is it okay?

If it's a white man's racism/That made him that way?

'Cause the bully is the victim/They say

By some sense they're all the same

'Cause the line between
Wrong and right

Is the width of a thread

From a spider's web

The piano keys

Are black and white

But they sound a million colors

In your mind

I could tell you/To go to war

Or I could march for peace/And fighting no more

But how do I know which is right?

And I hope he does when he sends you to fight

'Cause the line between

Wrong and right

Is the width of a thread

From a spider's web

The piano keys

Are black and white

But they sound like a million colors

In your mind

....Remember forever the guns and the feathers in time

"Spider's Web" by Katie Melua
(on album "Piece by Piece")

Can I just say

I am friends with some of the most amazing people alive. Laura came in town last night from Pennsylvania... I got to talk to Nick and Jesse... I just saw Leah, CW and my brother... I really am in relationship with awesome individuals. I like that they are all their own brand of eccentric, artsy, intellectuals... I like that they would love each other if they ever met... I like that they are really true friends, that they value the depth of relationship I crave, that they are invested in the exchange of ideas and art... they care deeply about the apparent chaos of society's current philosophy and have wild dreams for its revolution or improvement... God is with them... and through them God is with me.

I really really love you guys.

Bone weary

(photograph by EW Carter - you should check him out, some of his stuff is this haunting Victorian era-esque portrayals)

I'm tired. I've been traveling like a crazy person and, while I love it, I'm so so so tired. Part of it is staying up through the night talking with Leah, part of it is sleeping in beds of questionable hygiene in random hotels in SC, part of it is hanging out and having fun and for that I have no excuse, part of it is sleeping two nights with a 2 year old who rivals a thrashing alligator in her sleep and a 7 month old who likes to snuggle aka drool exessively and hit his head repeatedly on the headboard... and part of it is emotional.

I always say to my kids when they cry or whine, "life isn't easy for a little guy" because, however easy their lives may seem, they really aren't. Imagine not being able to say how you feel or explain why you're crying. You can't help yourself to what you want or even ask for it. That's not easy.

I think the same kind of compassion needs to be extended to us, as adults, toward ourselves: "life isn't easy for..." me? Well, anyone really. Life isn't easy because there is love and disappointment and exhileration and sorrow and these extremities, vital as they are, only contribute to the weariness we can feel. Experience is wearying.

I think this may be why the Sabbath is mandated. It also may be why on the 7th day and in the ultimate Sabbath of heaven, the rule is rest. We need to rest.

So, I'm going to watch Harry Potter today and only exercise for 30 minutes and NOT feel guilty about it.

I miss my mommy.
I miss Leah (oh, and if you're reading this, I think you have my camera).

Love you all so much.

Song for the moment -

"But I look at you warm in your dream/While your mobile dances above/And I think to myself it's a beautiful night/And I know everything's gonna be alright/Yes, now I know, it'll be alright."

"Everything'll be Alright (Will's Lullaby)" by Joshua Radin

Hannah banana bobana

My friend. I love being a kid with her and making jewelry and gossiping about Hannah Montana. I mean. This is cool stuff. :)

Blank and the giant

"The woman that I love is forty feet tall..." -Citizen Cope

The first line of this Citizen Cope song haunts me. I like this thought. It is so meaningful and invasive. Instantly my heart feels it... the disproportionate reality that clashes with my expectations of what people should be... my consistent (and not always beneficial) obsession with things and people "larger than life."

(photo from movie adaptation of Dickens's "Great Expectations")
It's so easy to fall in love, so easy to stay in love, with an illusory idea or person. It is that one, that giant or giantess...

I'm in love with that.

Incidentally, this song is called "Pablo Picasso" - as we all know, I'm completely obsessed with Picasso right now... his perception of reality was just this skewed... light, dark, swirls, colors, marred visions of reality, mixed-up images of humans, breasts, eyes, noses all out of place... too big, too strange to be real. That's what life looked like through his eyes.

Bigger than real. More than normal. Beyond rational? Brave, beautiful... like, for instance, 40 feet tall...

"... she's a movie star, she's all in the papers and everywhere I go, people hand me quarters/And they pat me on the back, they treat me like I'm famous/I never leave her side, 'cause dude it can be dangerous/And when the night arrives the light hits her features and/...."
(more of the CC song)


Wreaked. Marred. Squabble but it's what I see.

The point...

...of that last post was basically this: I realize that both viewpoints presented were largely unrelated. The philosophical underpinning of my comments and musings was this: everyone needs a purpose to get behind. Beyond a "spiritual calling" I think that having a purpose, something to fight for, is necessary to living a passionate life.
And here's the thing (where I think Greenpeace has helped me) - the motivation for effecting change is the betterment/improvement/conservation/preservation of one's environment. Whether we are believers fighting for the Kingdom of God or environmentalists fighting for the beauty of the earth, we align ourselves with causes that are meaningful, both intrinsically and which assign our lives deeper meaning.

It is not just the calling of some but really the need of all to become involved with a cause. The causeless are aimless and aimless people are dissatisfied and unfulfilled. Extreme? But I think true.

Does that make more sense?

Greenpeace

Late but here nonetheless...
It's still a bit obsessing (?) to me...

Here are two different views:

1. From the Greenpeace (history of) book. This begins with Canadian ecology and runs through whale defense and forest support, etc. The major history.
This is rather lengthy but worth the read:
"World changers, artists, and social misfits stumble upon history and make the best of it. Or they make a mess of it. In either case, they 'touch the flesh of the matter,' as Greenpeace strategist Ben Metcalfe once dreamed. Or they discover the soul that has no name and enter the eternal battle between spirit and matter. They're on spirit's side but in matter's grip. 'Imagination is seizing power,' proclaimed the Paris students in 1968. 'Our tears prove we are connected to the suffering of others,' said pacifist Joanna Macy. We shall not be moved. Blessed are the peacemakers. Let freedom ring.
World changers aren't planners. The planners come later, with critics and social philosophers to mop up and win awards. Bureaucrats arrive to invent systems. World changes are the mothers weary of seeing their children abused and fathers who have had enough of petty tyrants. Rosa Parks, the seamstress who refused to sit in the back of the bus. Jesus. Buddha."
(Greenpeace.... by Rex Weyler)

A different vantage point:


“We wrestle to free ourselves from macrocharity and distant acts of charity that serve to legitimize apathetic lifestyles of good intentions but rob us of the gift of community. We preach we prophesy, and dream together about how to awaken the church from her violent slumber. Sometimes we speak to change the world; other times we speak to keep the world from changing us. We are about ending poverty, not simply managing it. We give people fish. We teach them to fish. We tear down the walls that have been built around the fish pond. And we figure out who polluted it.We fight terrorism- the terrorism within each of us, the terrorism of corporate greed, of American consumerism, of war. We are not pacifist hippies but passionate lovers who abhor passivity and violence. We spend our lives actively resisting everything that destroys life, whether that be terrorism or the war on terrorism. We try to make the world safe, knowing that the world will never be safe as long as millions live in poverty so the few can live as they wish. We believe in another way of life- the kingdom of God- which stands in opposition to the principalities, powers, and rulers of this dark world.”

Shane Claiborne’s book “The Irresistible Revolution”

There're people in this world - I am in relationship with some of them - who are willing to do whatever it takes, to join whatever cause is most effective, to live their every breath for the sake of oppression, preservation, redemption.
I once heard a friend claim that war is the absolute opposite of God's will because it destroys human life, animal life, and destroys the earth. What could be worse?

There is so much to say. But what makes me really glad is that, ultimately, the Kingdom of God underpins every redemptive sentiment. So I at least know I am right there. God is the ultimate redeemer. We're in. So do what we know to do... at least as much as we know thus far.

“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” James 1:22

Save the whales etc.

"Soldiers dying of leukemia because people are dumb----". -Leah on hydrogen bomb testing north of New Zealand back in the '70's.

I'm reading the history of Greenpeace. So much to say but not yet... it's still percolating. The hippies and the hobos - I want to be among them. These are the people who are moving and shaking. I have a great quote to tell you when I get my book back.

For now, it's a little crazy/amazing to me how many of us (my friends, that is) are on the same wavelength with this stuff. Two major quotes to come and then I need phone calls.

Hell or highwater

8/1/06

"I can see a light that is coming
For the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these struggles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise you
Still I will praise you

Oh no You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me."

Part of "You Never Let Go" by Matt Redman (on Passion 06)

Exodus 14:10-14 -
"10 As Pharaoh drew near, the Israelites looked back, and there were the Egyptians advancing on them. In great fear the Israelites cried out to the Lord. 11They said to Moses, ‘Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? 12Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, “Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians”? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.’ 13But Moses said to the people, ‘Do not be afraid, stand firm, and see the deliverance that the Lord will accomplish for you today; for the Egyptians whom you see today you shall never see again. 14The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.'"

Whoa.
How often do we - because of its accompanying suffering and sacrifice - question whether or not we really want salvation? I mean, the idea of freedom from slavery is alluring... who wouldn't jump at the idea?
But then I find myself standing in an impossible situation - an impass on one side and an enemy on the other... and I don't feel so free and I certainly don't feel safe.

God alone is my hope.

right where He wants me to be but I have to admit to frequent second thoughts.

But I've made my decision.
And I'm going with God...
He is truly my only hope
And my salvation.
Blind faith is over-romanticized
Very terrifying
And here I stand
Completely in the dark
My only hope is that pillar of fire in the distance.

Ah.

So he has made a way for me -
Be it through the water and wilderness -
Onward I go.

Joy

Oh joy.
That's often said as a kind of sigh. (I'm admittedly not a huge fan of that fact, or the word "killjoy" but that's besides the point)
Mom used to grab me and do the "dance of joy."
Joy is said to be the more enduring feeling of elation - as opposed to fleeting happiness. Most of us spend our lives seeking it...
Hoping that one fabulous person, one perfect situation, one anticipated moment will leave us with an aftertaste of joy.
The hope of joy fuels our ambitions - everything from weight loss (when I'm thin I'll be joyful) to career goals (when I succeed I'll be approved of... and people who are approved of are joyful). It's a kind of contented satisfaction. Peace with who I am and peace with the world.

And this much I know. These past two weeks have been really chaotic - my world turned upside down almost thoroughly. My house is empty, my heart is recovering from a major blow, Leah's been out of town, the family's been in transition... uncertainties at every turn and enough pain for complaint or at least stress. That's the scene but here's the surprise: I have joy.

Somewhere deep enough is a reservoir of joy within me that is sustaining me. I am not losing hope. I am not losing life or perspective or energy. I am very much okay. More than fine. And I am that way because I have joy.

Surprising. Pleasing. Bit of a shocker but I'll take it.

Not even

My week of "dealing with this" is almost up. And I'm allowing myself one week. One week to over-eat and sulk and feel sorry for myself. Sorry that it is completely over. So completely. So tragically. I kept this tiny little door of opportunity open for him and now even that door is so irrevocably shut that I have no words. I just sit on the stairs and cry. It's like all of the fates (or divine providence, I suppose) collaborated to make it completely impossible for me to even go back. It would be unethical for me to try... because he should be with someone else and make a family. And so I will step out forever.

I've always said that nothing but the deepest of love could ever inspire me to marry.
Now I must recognize that not even the deepest of love can convince me to stay.

Strange.

"Baby says I can't come with him/And I had read all of this in his eyes/Long before he even said so why go I asked/You know and I know why/And it'll be just as quiet when I leave/As it was when I first got here/I don't expect anything/I don't expect anything/Take care I've been hurt before/Too much time spent on closing doors/You may hate me but I'll remember to love you/And goodbye don't cry/You know why."

"Quiet" by Rachael Yamagata

Plaid and paisley

We are the intersection
Of so many different things
Stripes and solids
Shapes and irregularities
But nevertheless
In my mind at least
It works
Some kind of intricate pattern
No one could really have planned
But somehow comes together
As though a greater hand
Formed us
So that one without the other
Would be incomplete
Sometimes we clash
But always,
When a broader perspective is gained
End up wearable

My brothers are necessary. Every disappointment in romance, every disillusionment with gender roles, every rant on the feminization of men or society's screwed-up views of masculinity leads me to the comforting thought that somewhere, out there, are four men. Real, blood-and-guts, ballsey men who are brave and beautiful... strong and sensitive... knowledgeable and teachable.

None of us are yet what we will be
But I know that when we are
They will be
Always and forever my standard
For what men should be.

I love you guys. Thanks for being my precious baby boys.
(my little smoocher kooker kinser lover wover dudies kissey kissey moonker woks)

Been thinkin

First off, before I say anything pontifical (?): if you are one of the people whose a. wedding I missed, b. phone call(s) I haven't returned, or c. coffee date I stood up - I have none of my usual (clever & brilliant) excuses just know that I'm so so so so so so so so sorry! You know how I get. Know that it's on a to-do list somewhere to spend massive amounts of time making up to you... and despite all appearances, know that I love love love you all!

Better?

Now I've been thinking... sometimes you have to just sit down and ponder. It helps that there've been rainy days and slow nights. I journaled extensively about all of this. Here's what I remember (big theme) - I know my calling.
"Calling" is one of those catch-phrases that tends to not pack a punch in reality... but there is something very real about the fact that God specifically intends in his moral will for each of us to do something specific with our lives. (I know at least CW is already forming his response to that vague statement - call me, dear, we need to talk anyway). And I know mine.

Africa.

Africa is my heart. I was re-reading some journal entries from right when I got back from Africa last year and I said: "my heart has been left in Africa on purpose." Because it was home. Because it was the most real I've ever felt and the most sure. I'm more sure of Africa than almost anything in life. I'm going. I'm staying. And, make a difference or not, I will live my life for love of the forgotten, diseased, and abandoned people of Africa.
I know it's not all that noble or great because I've been there with the smells and annoyances and sadness... but I also know that nothing else in life will satisfy me. Because that's my calling.

I can't wait!

Speaking of seasons

I ran across this song on my Folk Faves playlist.

"You're a vision all undone
You are the best kind of dreadful
I've ever been a part of
We're having so much fun
There are some angels in the slope dear
In the summer we will know dear

Seasons always change
Everybody knows that
And everybody says that
And the sun shines through the rain
When the wind makes afraid oh don't give in
Because we learn to love that way

You're a vision on the run
You are a change in the direction
We are making some connection
We're having so much fun
When the angels watch the mystery
Of everyday you and me."

"Seasons Always Change" by Sarah Masen.

Cute, huh?

More goodbyes

I'll miss my gym and my babies. It's been fun living the dream, Fatz, just you and me and dance parties and many other unmentionable and socially inappropriate jokes. God has blessed me so much. I can't but be thankful for this season.

Seasons

All I'm saying goodbye to.

"Seasons change/They change when you don't seem to notice/All of the sudden/Wind grows cold and then the snowflakes start to fall"


Leaving and Coming

Two very different events
That solicit similar emotions
A nostalgia; embracing familiarity
Tipping the cap
To what was and
Stepping into
What will be
Because the cadence of life
Requires this journeying

Faith is going to college! The boys are going to Christian school. Dad has a new church and Mom is only working part time. Jimmy and I are leaving for World Race. Changes.

"Seasons change/And you grow a little older/Nothing stays the same/The past becomes the future/Seasons change/And you grow a little older/No one stays the same/And my heart grows a little warmer"

It's going to be a good change... a tradeoffs. I've decided to move south with the family. It's a tradeoff I long for. If they will have me I will go. So that's that.

"I hope I choose a better tomorrow/Rather than a better yesterday"

(all quotes from "Seasons Change" by Susie Suh)

Bye.

No can do

Breaks my heart, girl.
I love you so much.
So sorry I couldn't come.

Hope

Hope is an anchor for the soul, according to Hebrews.

I had a rema moment the other day reading Romans 5. VV 3-5 say, "Not only so but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

Hopelesness is a lack of character.

Hopelesness is a lack of character, produced by not persevering in suffering. Despair is a character problem. Not a psychological problem... a character problem.

Hm. Do I have hope?

If not, I alone am to blame... not dire circumstances or situations that merit despair... me and my own character fall short if I do not have hope.

"Hope again in God; I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God."

Help

"I was pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the Lord helped me." (Ps. 118:13)

7/5/06 was a great revelation day...

Gen. 19:16 - So the cities of S & G are about to be destroyed by God's angels because of iniquity. Abraham cut a deal that if 10 righteous persons could be found God would refrain... but no such number was found. God's amazingly merciful compromise was to take Lot and his family out of the city before it was destroyed. So the fire begins to fall and the angels press for them to leave... but this is Lot's home; it's the place he chose when Ab said, "we must part ways, whichever way you go, that land is yours." He lived in the midst of evil people and the Word says that his righteous heart was grieved by their conduct. And yet. And yet. Something held him to this place because in 19:16 we hear this scenario: "When he [Lot] hesitated, the men grasped his hand.. and led them safely out of the city, for the Lord was merciful to him."

God had given so many chances for rescue, so many opportunities for Lot to get out or righteous people to present themselves for the sake of the city, to no avail. One would think that his patience, worn thin by S & G's debauchery, would not last. But here, in this amazingly extravagant act of mercy, God not only presents a way out for Lot but grasps him and leads him out of danger.

I don't think of God like that often. I feel the need to beg for help and hope for a small chance of rescue. But this scenario would suggest otherwise.

I journaled, "When God bestows mercy on me, my chances are many and his patient persistance is great. He - in his heart - wants to help me... and even when I hesitate in doubt, he will help me!"

"For surely it is not angels he helps but he helps the offspring of Abraham" (Heb. 2:16).

I trust that he will help me.

The dark

(photograph by Kevin Byrne)
“I want to paint myself a picture/I want to paint myself in blue and red and black and grey/All of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful/Yeah, you know grey/It’s my favorite color/I just get so confused everyday/But if I knew Picasso I would buy myself a grey guitar and play.”
Counting Crows “Mr Jones” (VH1 Storytellers version)

All of my dearests (namely, those of you privy to this blog) agree that life is too dark to be explained by typical Christianity.

I’m reading this book called Dark Nights of the Soul by Thomas Moore (former Catholic monk, PhD in theology, musicology and religion. Only strike against him: practices psychotherapy)

Here’s his take.

Excerpts:

“…God who is your ultimate darkness.... Religion, too, often avoids the dark by hiding behind platitudes and false assurances. Nothing is more irrelevant than feeble religious piousness in the face of stark, life-threatening darkness. Religion tends to sentimentalize the light and demonize the darkness. If you turn to spirituality to find only a positive and wholesome attitude, you are using spirituality to avoid life’s dark beauty…. Flight from the dark infantilizes your spirituality….”

He quotes Bonhoeffer as saying, “The world that has come of age is more godless, and perhaps for that very reason nearer to God, than the world before its coming of age.”

“Today, Bonhoeffer says, we have to face our problems directly and having lost the option of a God coming like the cavalry from the sky, we discover the real meaning of religion, an openness to the mysteries that are playing themselves out.”

This is a stunningly accurate description of my recent spiritual journey. I have been entirely unable to articulate the spiritual darkness that has overtaken my life for the past three years. I have felt guilty, I have felt inadequate, I’ve felt like a failure… I’ve been tempted with meaninglessness and despair… I’ve been threatened with a thorough unraveling of God as I had been taught. He wasn’t what he had been said to be. The church definitely makes no sense. He did meaningless things without explaining himself and placed me and my family in dark places we didn’t deserve.

And all I came out with was… it is what it is. Nothing more. Nothing less.

What do we think about this Thomas Moore character, people? Call me.

Burst

This is a series of photographs taken by a contemporary French photographer I admire. I can't get better representations of them, or I would comment on the stunning versatility of the look of these emotions... they range from despair, fear, shock, anger... all exemplified by the very organic act of bursting into tears.
Bursting into tears is something entirely honest. It can't be premeditated or manipulative. It isn't controllable... there's no plug, no brave face, no coping mechanism that can intercept the split second when something deeper than my conscious will decides to erupt from within.
It's embarassing. It's kind of cleansing.
It's a very here-I-am and this is what I feel, no holds barred, action.

Today I was twice told by two people who matter that I've done nothing with my life and am currently accomplishing nothing. Oh, and I'm headed nowhere. Their wording wasn't couched in niceties and was supremely... hurtful.

I burst into tears.

I'm not going to prove or defend myself. I'm just going to cry.

Much fun

"Miracles are like meatballs, because nobody can exactly agree what they are made of, where they come from, or how often they should appear."

Lemony Snicket in "A Series of Unfortunate Events" book 7, "The Carniverous Carnival."

....But when they do we are happy to be interrupted and willing to be changed

(miracles, I mean... not meatballs. Unless they give us the runs. Conceivably it would apply then.)

Leah came... and went. I can't believe the amount of time she spent with me. That screams love to me. You gotta put in the time... well, she did! We had the greatest week ever. It included some "what happens here stays here" material but for the most part was just quality, soul-connecting time in each other's company.
There aren't many people on earth who I could say I have a similar connection with. It's the stuff that a concept like "soul mates" is made of. I don't need many people like that... one or two is enough... but it is a necessary relationship. If I lost her I couldn't make it.
I'm grateful for the advice, drinks, laughs, gym runs, coffee, outings, golf-carting, silly dancing, guitar playing, movie watching, sitting in silence intimacy of it all. Grateful to God and grateful to you, Leah.
Our friendship - its staying power and soul-y-ness - is a miracle.

Her rendition of our time is so much funner than mine: check it out - Leahevangalyn.blogspot.com aka The Rant

Dad

I love my Dad... even if he did play "Butterfly Kisses" at church, leaving the three women in his life a pile of crumpled Kleenex and sobs... there is something so different and distinct about the way I feel toward my dad. I don't feel this way on Mother's Day or toward any other family member. The older I get the stronger it gets... the more I realize how connected I am to my Dad and how he, though maybe less vocal than Mom, has shaped me irreversibly. I love him. I'm so grateful for how close to great he's always been... and always tried to be. I respect and admire him. It's inarticulable really. He's my dad.



"Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later...
the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called 'Being a Father' so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life."
-Tom Wolfe in "The Bonfire of the Vanities"

Love Cool Love

"I like it when things break down. There's something about a flat tire, or a train getting stuck, or long weather delays at the airport--any time when the earth stops turning the way it's supposed to--that releases me. I am a child again, curious, confused, not knowing what will happen next. For a moment, a space, a breath, I'm not responsible. All I have to do is respond--until time catches up with itself, the tire is changed, the train starts rolling again, or the snow melts, and the weight of accountability is hoisted back up on my shoulders. Sometimes I wish for a tornado or a hurricane, even a war. Anything to stop the inertia for an instant. Being an adult, the awareness of opportunities that have been compromised, the stunted growth I feel in my bones, is simply exhausting. A disaster striking can be a relief--as long as it isn't your fault."

-Ethan Hawke in "Ash Wednesday"

Despite my stalwart committment to despising contemporary authors, in an effort to be open-minded, and rather begrudgingly I must admit that Hawke has written something not only true but rather elegant.

What is not love

Love is not shallow. If you dive in and jar your head then it probably isn't love... or isn't love as it should be. There are no lifelong scarring effects because love is, at its best, healing. It's the deviations from real love that cause pain and separation. Love doesn't leave or quit. Love is actually enough, end of story, because *insert theological extrapolation here*. You know what I mean.
Specifically in Joy's world today: Love is not giving up even when every door has been knocked on and every opportunity pursued for rendezvous; love is not saying, well it wasn't meant to be, but getting in a sketchy Saturn and making the trek all the way down to Florida for a friend who is in need; love is not checking out but being the partner in crime for whatever lovely girl outings need to take place to remind me I'm okay; love is not about giving anything but yourself.

Love is not hanging up too early or copping out too soon.
Love is not forgetting or letting someone fall through the cracks.

Love is rescue... however seemingly benign my peril.

No shallow end, here.
This is love, baby.

So much

Not to be contradictory... but since when has that bothered me?
The pic is for Leah - cute, huh? (It is NOT smiley faces) (and I am NOT copying Britney Spears, bleck, I spit on the idea) (AND one word two syllables: demarcation) (if you don't get that watch The Office I beg of you) (COME SEE ME or I may finally go insane)
My hands smell like peaches and my shirt is covered in baby spit.
Last night I put on makeup and - with shock - remembered that, whoa, I'm cute. I mean, as opposed to the totally-oblivious-to-my-appearance-never-wearing-makeup-living-in-workout-clothes mentality I've been sporting of late.
This week was so fun with the kids but... well... I'm a perpetual problem these days... not unhappy always by any means...Well, here. Prose doesn't suit me.

New

Uncoiled
Unfurled
Released
Unleashed
The first burst is the best
From there it seems to peter
But at least the first is so great
The shaking off of
And basking in
New sensations
And fresh perceptions
Life is so… tasty
Everything is so vivid
Colorful
Contrasting
Bright
There is newness
And it is good
But it doesn’t last
And what I have to learn
Is how to truck it out
When new isn’t anymore.

Done

It hit the fan. So .... 6-6-06 was a rather bad day .... despite my anti-superstition policy ....

Done 6-6-06

I’m done waiting.
I’ve been sitting here
Thinking it’s character
Or some kind of technique
To get him to come
But he’s not coming
And who am I kidding?
It’s so… delicate.
It’s like this threadbare tightrope,
This tentative dance,
This reluctant admission,
It is short-lived and dissatisfying
Because they come on so strong
But leave so soon.
I can’t be ready now
I can’t be willing right now
This minute doesn’t work for me
But you won’t wait for me
So goodbye is all I can say.
I’m done waiting for someone
To step up and say
He’s here for the long run
Because no one is
Or wants to be
And I have to admit
I wonder if it’s me…

Goodbye

I hate saying goodbye. It hurts. I miss Brookey so much and this week has been so... full, so rich, so memorable. I love her so much. She is going to be such an amazing woman... she is such a big girl... so beautiful and big. We had the funnest week ever! Here's to the greatest 4 year old on the planet! I love you and it breaks my heart that you have to leave, Brooker.
I feel sorry for everyone who isn't me and who doesn't have the greatest job ever.