What's not to love about a day that begins with sleeping in?!!! I'm of two minds when it comes to sleeping in. . . my first mind nags like this: "Oh, what a waste of time! Think of all the things you could have done." My second mind thinks like this: "AHHHHH! That was great!!! No work, no 'should' or 'have to' just 'want to'! Freedom!!" So, guess which mind won the battle this a.m.??? You guessed it. . . mind #2!!!!! WOOOH!
Do you have those days where you feel just generally glad about things? I had one today. . it was so releasing, i felt released from the work grind, i felt released from the structure of the Monday - Friday routine. Saturdays, for me, always feel so promising - hours of time to walk, read, visit the market, shop, get things done around the house, see my grandchildren, my daughters, spend more time with Rob, see a movie, cook the way i like to when i have time, bake the same way, travel around the region. I don't always get all those things done in one Saturday, but I appreciate the chance to pack as much as possible in!!!Spring has got me itching to change things around. . i have so many ideas, its time to get to work on them. We have our anniversary coming up May 2. . married for 25 years - neither one of us can believe it. . together now for a total of 29 years. Great years.. absolutely great!
Today was a belated birthday celebration for Mom, who's been so busy, this was the first chance we had to mark her special day! I planned the menu earlier in the week. . roast beef, yorkshire pudding, gravy, steamed broccoli, corn, mashed potatoes. Rob shopped for the food today while I got started on the desserts, which are always done first. . Carrot cake cupcakes - made with fresh ginger, real maple syrup, pineapple and spices, cream cheese icing, topped with fresh strawberry slices -- chocolate-topped coconut/condensed milk squares and fresh strawberries. . I had a blast!!! I love any chance to get busy in the kitchen -- its one of my favourite ways to be good to those I love.
We had a great meal together, after which we enjoyed a trip to the park - the kids slid and ran around and swung and saw the deer and the birds, the ducks and geese. Lindsay and the kids went on their way home. KK, Rob, Mom and i enjoyed a drive in the country - saw the cows and horses, even a couple of wild turkeys!! took a rollercoastery side road and screamed like we were on a ride at Wonderland!! Capped the trip off with a stop at Timmie's for drinks, then dropped Mom off and headed home. Rob and I went for a walk, then watched CSI taped from Thursday!!! and THEN saw "Tristan and Isolde". .
Its late now, i'm gonna close. Rob's playing guitar downstairs, I love when he does that. . I love living in a music house. . what's not to love about staying up till 2 a.m.?! squeeze every bit outta the one day and bite into the next one! heh heh. . . I'm an incurable nighthawk. I may just sleep in this morning. .
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
spring
winter surrenders
the sleeping, barren earth shows her hidden life
and i feel joy
faded brown gives way to vivid green
ice recedes from loamy soil
warm air blows through budding branches
Resurrection's in the air, in the sun,
perfumed rain soaks the ground
The world throbs with life and the promise of plenty
Elemental symphony -- birds sing ancient mysteries.
earth echoes their song. . my heart sings along.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
as promised -- cenote!!!!
SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5211/413/320/101_0640.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'> 
If you click on this top link, you will see the jade green water of the open air cenote just past the Temple of Venus.
Okay, now this was the cenote in which we jumped and swam! -- notice the vines, the spots of filtered sunlight shining on the water's surface. From the midway point on the steps down, you could see the dark silhouettes of the catfish circling around -. The water was extremely refreshing after that stifling heat! You see the divers here standing on the steps. We were told that it was 150 feet deep!!! I can't even guess how wide. . it seemed huge, though these pictures don't really convey that.
Rob and I climbed the steps, looked down at the water below -- i was so scared -- we counted 1. . . . "I can't do it!!!" said me. 2. . . . .. . "AHHHH!!! i don't think i can!" 3!!!!! I jumped and my heart rose up in my throat, i screamed all the way down -- until i splashed down and way under, water shooting up my nose. . and into my ears!!! Rob stayed up above laughing at me!!!!!
I lolled about, swimming mostly around the middle, cuz for some reason i felt safe there?! Rob and I at one point were laying on our backs, looking up at people WWWAYYY up there, looking down at us! Then we just hung out and treaded water. . at which point he said: "Try opening your eyes underwater. I can't see a thing. . its completely black!" This freaked me out just a bit. . the fact that i was essentially swimming in a graveyard, and God knows what else they chucked in there over the centures?! Not to mention the thought of fish and assorted other ugly, squirmy creatures. . I just wanted to stay as much on the surface as possible!!!
By the end of our session he had taken the plunge 5 times and me three. . I can't even describe the peace, swimming around on that deep blue surface. . If you floated on your back and looked up you see vines hanging like curtains from way up above!!! If you looked up you saw this yawning gap of sky, rimmed by mossy earth at the top-most part of the cave, from which the vines dangle. . and from which water drips and showers you as you move underneath it.
I think it was one of the most amazing things I'd ever done!!! WAY better than our ocean jet skiing the next day which was NOT something i would ever try again. Maybe a nice, calm lake yes. . but it was a choppy sea the day we were out. . I know that there were sharks and other grossities out in the open water and that FREAKED ME OUT! We were just slamming on the waves and every time we cut across a wave we went up and then of course slammed down. .so it went like this: VRRRRROOOM!!! cut through the wave "AHHHH!!!!" slam down. . . "AAAAH!" I just screamed the whole time. . It was such a small craft to be out in the open ocean. . i felt too vulnerable and was frightened to death of falling off the back of the thing!!! Rob took me back to the beach and he went out by himself!! I think he was glad to dump me off!!!
Yes, the cenote was the aquatic highlight for me. . we tried kayaking too, but its tricky with those waves. . cenote! cenote!!! I would DEFINITELY take the leap again!!!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Kukulcan's temple -- Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza, Mexico.
Me and Robbie are dwarfed by this amazing marvel of ancient Mayan engineering.
The 2 hour-trip away from the Caribbean Sea, into miles of scrub and naked, tangled trees and bone-dry land, what a shock to the system. The climate controlled bus came to a stop and we spilled out into this OVEN of a place that is Chichen Itza. . A bottle of cold water was issued to each person on leaving and again on re-entering the bus. Our guide, Jose Luis, warned of the dangers of dehydration.They were NOT kidding ! After only about 20 minutes or so i began to feel the effects of the sun (even with my hat and sunglasses and sunblock). After an hour my legs were rubber and I was starting to feel like i was gonna fall down! Rob offered me some of his water, which by that point had become hot in the bottle. . not warm -- HOT! We found a place to buy some nice, cold water. . $200 pesos or so. . just a few dollars. I don't think I have ever appreciated water as much as I did that bottle of "Crystal".
Extreme heat aside. . we were entranced with these ruins and we listened to descriptions of their mathematically-adept architects. What an education!! To be honest I had never really thought much about Mayan history - it just never came up in conversation where i live! They were the creators of a numerical system that ultimately became the binary system used in modern computing. . these ppl lived by the stars, marked equinoxes and solstices with great, stone monuments, using precision and skill that baffles 21st century scientists. They took powerful hallucinogens and took 'vision quests' into outer space, said our proudly Mayan guide, Jose #2. Upon coming back down to 'earth', they would use the knowledge they gathered to erect their observatories and their pyramids within pyramids (similar large pyramids in Teotihuacan contained 7 pyramids in 1 - to pay homage to the constellation "The 7 Sisters"). Here's a bit of coolness for you. . . the rubber trees here exude a stretchy, white sap that was mixed with herbs to make ancient 'chewing gum' called (in Mayan) "Chi Clet" "Chi" = mouth "Clet" = chew. .
Chiclets!!!
We had the guided tour, then we were allowed to go "Indiana Jones". . explore on our own. Our guides kept repeating "7186 - The Good Guys". . it was the bus number and our tour's 'Code Name'!!! (with so many tour buses, you did NOT want to get on the wrong one!!!) Unbelievably, I STILL remember this!!! Great brainwashing job, eh?!! With 12 square miles of Chichen Itza to explore and not very much time in which to do it, we chose to take a right past the Observatory and the remains of The Temple of Venus. . and headed to see a jade-green 'cenote' (senotay). These giant meteor craters are fed by underground rivers and were used for ritual sacrifices in which bones of the deceased (males and infants) sacred objects and other items would be cast into the watery pit. I'd like to post another picture here for you. . but I don't know how to post more than 1 at a time!!! GAH!!! I will put one up in a separate post. . and I'll show you a picture of the one that we were later privileged to jump into and swim around in!!!
The sheer size of this settlement was just one of those things you have to see with you own eyes to believe! We also toured the "Templo de los Guerreros" (Temple of the Warriors). What a fierce structure this was. . with its thousands of stone poles, each paying tribute to a man of legendary strength and battle skill *more than just a little phallic!!!* MEN!!!!! We were left breathless as we walked the pathway that suddenly opened onto this 3 football field-sized expanse of land on which sat the jewel in the crown, Kukulcan's temple!! flanked by many other grand ghostly structures, which even in their 'ruined' state, catch your breath and leave you with few words. If you scratch away the thin, yellowed grass with your foot, you uncover interlocking paving stones as far as you can see. Amazing. . how painstaking to place them. .they were completely level.
Something that we found extremely disturbing, and against which we were warned by our guides, was the presence of hundreds of peddlars. They were apparently illegally there, everywhere among the ruins. You quickly felt hassled. They would come up to you and hold stuff up in your face, tell you how many pesos, how many dollars. So many of them. . with so many fake pyramids, hats, panflutes, jaguars, masks, mirrors. Everywhere you walked someone was trying to get you to buy a statue, "One dollah!" they would cry out. "Three for 10 Dollah!" Young men waved marble and quartz carvings and yelled out "You like? Good deal! Come on!" Old men sat under the shady trees and carved pieces of wood. The flood of tourists passed the squatters, but despite advisement against encouraging these vendors - many ppl bought from them. Old women waved white embroidered handkerchiefs, their wizened faces and tired eyes made me incredibly sad. Dirty-faced young children with their chins tilted down, would look up at you with big brown eyes. I just could not believe the desperation that seemed to have gripped every one of them. This was their bread and butter -- squatting illegally in a government-protected heritage site and hoping the tourists would give them a few bucks. The way i was feeling as we walked through this tunnel of vendors to the cenote. . i was annoyed, like you might feel if bugs are constantly hovering around you and you can't get away from them. I felt faint from the baking heat and worst of all I felt so upset by the poverty i was seeing. I wanted to say to them "I don't want to buy that stupid stuff. .how can i really help you?" Its impossible to make such offers when you're only there for a couple of hours. We did buy a photo folio from a thin, white-haired Mayan man. . the proceeds of which went to support the "Investigacion Y Conservacion De La Cultura Maya".
Time had come to head back to the bus, back past all those desperate people, back past all the merchandise-covered tarps spread on the dusty ground. .back past all those eyes, past all the yells. . we finally caved and bought a double panflute. . most likely got ripped off. . but when i look at it now, i think of the young man who sold it to us and i think of the village that we passed on our way to lunch and our cenote swim. This place was so, so full of tiny little stuccoed homes. . surrounded by scrub and dust. .skinny dogs trotted in backyards littered with discarded tricycles, jalopy trucks, empty Corona beer bottles. I thought of my neighbourhood back home and I felt so unbelievably odd gazing upon this bareness. . sitting in that expensive bus, wearing new clothes, money in my wallet, being shuttled around in comfort, fed a buffet, given the sight of a lifetime at Chichen Itza, taken to swim in a wondrous meteor crater, even watched a movie on the way. It was unsettling. But as Rob reminded me, this is what their 'economy' thrives on -- tourism.
We had taken plenty of pictures, we were tired and awed and grateful and unsettled. The bus shuddered through a series of small villages on our way home, picking up speed once on the highway. . leaving Yucatan, heading back into Quintana Roo (Kintanna Roh) leaving the poverty and the dust and endless acres of ugly trees. . ever closer to that gorgeous ocean and our beautiful resort. . This was the day of the Presidential and Prime Ministerial meetings in Cancun. . armed guards stood miles outside of the city. . choppers hugged the shorelines. . grey battle ships dotted the water, divers worked along the coast. Traffic snarled. . our stomachs growled. We were dropped off at the front doors of our beautiful temporary home - we thanked the 2 Joses and Mr. Angel the driver. . 7186 "The Good Guys"!!! we tipped them and headed up to our room to fall down on the bed for a rest. What a strange privilege was ours. . absolutely unforgettable.
Me and Robbie are dwarfed by this amazing marvel of ancient Mayan engineering.
The 2 hour-trip away from the Caribbean Sea, into miles of scrub and naked, tangled trees and bone-dry land, what a shock to the system. The climate controlled bus came to a stop and we spilled out into this OVEN of a place that is Chichen Itza. . A bottle of cold water was issued to each person on leaving and again on re-entering the bus. Our guide, Jose Luis, warned of the dangers of dehydration.They were NOT kidding ! After only about 20 minutes or so i began to feel the effects of the sun (even with my hat and sunglasses and sunblock). After an hour my legs were rubber and I was starting to feel like i was gonna fall down! Rob offered me some of his water, which by that point had become hot in the bottle. . not warm -- HOT! We found a place to buy some nice, cold water. . $200 pesos or so. . just a few dollars. I don't think I have ever appreciated water as much as I did that bottle of "Crystal".
Extreme heat aside. . we were entranced with these ruins and we listened to descriptions of their mathematically-adept architects. What an education!! To be honest I had never really thought much about Mayan history - it just never came up in conversation where i live! They were the creators of a numerical system that ultimately became the binary system used in modern computing. . these ppl lived by the stars, marked equinoxes and solstices with great, stone monuments, using precision and skill that baffles 21st century scientists. They took powerful hallucinogens and took 'vision quests' into outer space, said our proudly Mayan guide, Jose #2. Upon coming back down to 'earth', they would use the knowledge they gathered to erect their observatories and their pyramids within pyramids (similar large pyramids in Teotihuacan contained 7 pyramids in 1 - to pay homage to the constellation "The 7 Sisters"). Here's a bit of coolness for you. . . the rubber trees here exude a stretchy, white sap that was mixed with herbs to make ancient 'chewing gum' called (in Mayan) "Chi Clet" "Chi" = mouth "Clet" = chew. .
Chiclets!!!
We had the guided tour, then we were allowed to go "Indiana Jones". . explore on our own. Our guides kept repeating "7186 - The Good Guys". . it was the bus number and our tour's 'Code Name'!!! (with so many tour buses, you did NOT want to get on the wrong one!!!) Unbelievably, I STILL remember this!!! Great brainwashing job, eh?!! With 12 square miles of Chichen Itza to explore and not very much time in which to do it, we chose to take a right past the Observatory and the remains of The Temple of Venus. . and headed to see a jade-green 'cenote' (senotay). These giant meteor craters are fed by underground rivers and were used for ritual sacrifices in which bones of the deceased (males and infants) sacred objects and other items would be cast into the watery pit. I'd like to post another picture here for you. . but I don't know how to post more than 1 at a time!!! GAH!!! I will put one up in a separate post. . and I'll show you a picture of the one that we were later privileged to jump into and swim around in!!!
The sheer size of this settlement was just one of those things you have to see with you own eyes to believe! We also toured the "Templo de los Guerreros" (Temple of the Warriors). What a fierce structure this was. . with its thousands of stone poles, each paying tribute to a man of legendary strength and battle skill *more than just a little phallic!!!* MEN!!!!! We were left breathless as we walked the pathway that suddenly opened onto this 3 football field-sized expanse of land on which sat the jewel in the crown, Kukulcan's temple!! flanked by many other grand ghostly structures, which even in their 'ruined' state, catch your breath and leave you with few words. If you scratch away the thin, yellowed grass with your foot, you uncover interlocking paving stones as far as you can see. Amazing. . how painstaking to place them. .they were completely level.
Something that we found extremely disturbing, and against which we were warned by our guides, was the presence of hundreds of peddlars. They were apparently illegally there, everywhere among the ruins. You quickly felt hassled. They would come up to you and hold stuff up in your face, tell you how many pesos, how many dollars. So many of them. . with so many fake pyramids, hats, panflutes, jaguars, masks, mirrors. Everywhere you walked someone was trying to get you to buy a statue, "One dollah!" they would cry out. "Three for 10 Dollah!" Young men waved marble and quartz carvings and yelled out "You like? Good deal! Come on!" Old men sat under the shady trees and carved pieces of wood. The flood of tourists passed the squatters, but despite advisement against encouraging these vendors - many ppl bought from them. Old women waved white embroidered handkerchiefs, their wizened faces and tired eyes made me incredibly sad. Dirty-faced young children with their chins tilted down, would look up at you with big brown eyes. I just could not believe the desperation that seemed to have gripped every one of them. This was their bread and butter -- squatting illegally in a government-protected heritage site and hoping the tourists would give them a few bucks. The way i was feeling as we walked through this tunnel of vendors to the cenote. . i was annoyed, like you might feel if bugs are constantly hovering around you and you can't get away from them. I felt faint from the baking heat and worst of all I felt so upset by the poverty i was seeing. I wanted to say to them "I don't want to buy that stupid stuff. .how can i really help you?" Its impossible to make such offers when you're only there for a couple of hours. We did buy a photo folio from a thin, white-haired Mayan man. . the proceeds of which went to support the "Investigacion Y Conservacion De La Cultura Maya".
Time had come to head back to the bus, back past all those desperate people, back past all the merchandise-covered tarps spread on the dusty ground. .back past all those eyes, past all the yells. . we finally caved and bought a double panflute. . most likely got ripped off. . but when i look at it now, i think of the young man who sold it to us and i think of the village that we passed on our way to lunch and our cenote swim. This place was so, so full of tiny little stuccoed homes. . surrounded by scrub and dust. .skinny dogs trotted in backyards littered with discarded tricycles, jalopy trucks, empty Corona beer bottles. I thought of my neighbourhood back home and I felt so unbelievably odd gazing upon this bareness. . sitting in that expensive bus, wearing new clothes, money in my wallet, being shuttled around in comfort, fed a buffet, given the sight of a lifetime at Chichen Itza, taken to swim in a wondrous meteor crater, even watched a movie on the way. It was unsettling. But as Rob reminded me, this is what their 'economy' thrives on -- tourism.
We had taken plenty of pictures, we were tired and awed and grateful and unsettled. The bus shuddered through a series of small villages on our way home, picking up speed once on the highway. . leaving Yucatan, heading back into Quintana Roo (Kintanna Roh) leaving the poverty and the dust and endless acres of ugly trees. . ever closer to that gorgeous ocean and our beautiful resort. . This was the day of the Presidential and Prime Ministerial meetings in Cancun. . armed guards stood miles outside of the city. . choppers hugged the shorelines. . grey battle ships dotted the water, divers worked along the coast. Traffic snarled. . our stomachs growled. We were dropped off at the front doors of our beautiful temporary home - we thanked the 2 Joses and Mr. Angel the driver. . 7186 "The Good Guys"!!! we tipped them and headed up to our room to fall down on the bed for a rest. What a strange privilege was ours. . absolutely unforgettable.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
over my head
i've been having dreams the past several nights in which i'm over my head in water.
Ordinarily this is a great thing, because i love water. I even like to think that it took so long for me to be born because I didn't want to come out of the water!
These dreams have been different than having a beautiful swim in a placid lake, or peaceful pool. The waters of my dreams have been raging, surging, wild and uncontrolled. I have either fallen into them and been swept away with the flow, going under and dragging myself up, sputtering and gasping. . or i have been dragged over the edge of a thundering cataract and plunged screaming, thousands of feet down the roaring sheet of water.
I seem to have these thematic dreams -- climbing impossible heights, frightened to death of falling, or i've been hopelessly lost on a journey and unable to get my bearings. . now with being submerged and surrendered to a journey not of my choosing, having to go where the waves take me. I think there's a leather couch in a nearby office with my name on it!!!
So, its Easter Sunday morning - very early. . i should be in bed asleep! My thoughts are churning as much as the water in my dreams, keeping me awake. I've been trying to pray but i'm too antsy. . . i had to write this. Maybe this is a way to pray? think things through, sort stuff out.
Aside from the whole spring renewal, baby chicks, easter bunny, eggs both real and candy, lamb with mint sauce, buns with crosses, ham dinner, new clothes, going to church stuff, this year I'm really trying to ask myself "What is all this stuff that we do?"
When I was a kid it was all about the excitement of the Easter Bunny hiding all those sugary goodies. The anticipation of the hunt, the pastel-coloured, woven treat-holding baskets, the gorging on chocolate, marshmallow and jelly beans! Kid heaven!!! It was also the new Easter dress, hat, white gloves, white patent leather shoes to wear to church, where I heard words like sin, Jesus, cross, mercy, grave, risen, Redeemer, forgiveness, salvation, everlasting life. I was familiar with these words, i knew the sound of them, but I'm afraid that they took a back seat to Laura Secord cream eggs and my newest spring outfit. The purple words were all way over my head.
Fast forward through the decades. . i played Easter Bunny to my own kids, dyed eggs with food colouring, bought those baskets, the girlie outfits, hid the candy eggs, decorated the house with spring flowers, toasted hot cross buns for breakfast, dressed the girls and went to church.
Now I've lived enough to know more than the sound of those words, but I've become familiar with how they feel to me. My feelings however go up and down like the thermometer during the transition between seasons. But the purple words don't take a back seat to the former things, or do they? The money I've spent this week on food for 'the feast', the money I plunked down at the hand-made chocolate shop, the fresh cut flowers, the potted lily, the little gifts for the grandkids, the menu planning. I wonder, have I gotten it yet? I'm middle aged for crying in the sink! but I sometimes I don't really think its sunk in?
I went to a nearby church on "Good Friday". . . a day that can hardly be called 'good', but maybe "Good Came From That Friday"? I had taken Thursday off in order to run around and get 'stuff' for the big event -- so it was quite a gearing down the next morning when I entered a darkened, hushed room with all its candle-lit 'stations'. I sat in quietness with other strangers as i moved from one display to the next. I began by staring at 30 pieces of silver - coins spilled out on a cloth-lined table. I thought of betrayal . I thought of my own fickleness. Next I touched some rough, splintered pieces of wood and winced as i thought of how it felt to lie against that wood. I held cold metal spikes in my hand and hefted a mallet. I thought of how much it hurt if a tiny needle entered my skin, couldn't imagine this spike. I ate a piece of bread and took a sip of grape juice - thought of his body, broken for us and his blood shed. I took some strips of muslin fabric in my hands and rubbed them together - grave clothes - i smelled the myrrh, put some in the palm of my hand. Pictured 75 pounds of this used to embalm his body. . this was the amount used for a royal burial in those days -- how ironic after his criminal's death.
When I sat at each station and thought about all these parts of his whole death process, I began to feel the weight of the purple words becoming a reality and felt them overshadow my trip to the chocolate shop and felt them dwarf the grocery run and eclipse the balloons and the stuffed toy rabbits -- as i thought of such merciful, selfless bravery and hard core compassion -- i felt once more over my head. I came to a torn curtain, hanging between flood-lit pillars and i tried to imagine the sound of the ripping of that heavy temple curtain that separated the 'holy of holies' from the common area -- i thought of what this meant. . no more separation between God and us. Last, I came to a small cross, draped in scarlet cloth, from which hung a crown of thorns --at the base of which lay a crossbeam, a bucket of small nails, black pieces of paper, pencils and a hammer. This was my cross. I was invited to write down something I felt that I was willing to surrender, then lay it on the wood and pound it in. I sat there for a while. What could i possibly write on that black piece of paper? And if i DID write down something, would i really be honest about it? I thought of wanting to be real and feel something more about Easter than all that stuff we've all made it into. I thought of those purple words that have always been in my head, but did they really make the journey down to my heart yet? Sometimes i think they have, but then other times I worry that I don't have the slightest clue how heavily beautiful they are and I don't understand them. I sat some more. At last I got up and took a pencil in hand, knelt by the bucket of nails, wrote "myself" on the paper and nailed it to the 'cross' in 3 strikes of the hammer. Its not that I thought of me hanging on a cross, but rather of me being willing to symbolically promise my everything to the one would did not hesitate to literally give his everything for me. Once more I felt over my head - but isn't that really what i wanted? Real? not candy? not flowers or baked goods? not buying things? not stuffed toys? not even church attendance or Bible verses? but me flooded over by the reality of his depth of mercy?
I used to belong to a beautiful choir. We sang this song, or rather 'they' sang it, because I don't think I ever sang a note . It always made me cry. . .the haunting tune ebbing and flowing like ocean swells, the words cut me down. I cried for my badness and for his goodness that swallowed it up:
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forbear? me the chief of sinners spare?
I have long withstood His grace, long provoked Him to his face,
Would not harken to his calls, grieved him by a thousand falls.
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forebear? Me the chief of sinners spare?
Whence to me this waste of love? Ask my advocate above.
See the cause in Jesus' face, now before the throne of grace.
There for me a Saviour stands, show His wounds and spreads His hands
God is love, I know, I feel. . . Jesus lives and loves me still.
Ordinarily this is a great thing, because i love water. I even like to think that it took so long for me to be born because I didn't want to come out of the water!
These dreams have been different than having a beautiful swim in a placid lake, or peaceful pool. The waters of my dreams have been raging, surging, wild and uncontrolled. I have either fallen into them and been swept away with the flow, going under and dragging myself up, sputtering and gasping. . or i have been dragged over the edge of a thundering cataract and plunged screaming, thousands of feet down the roaring sheet of water.
I seem to have these thematic dreams -- climbing impossible heights, frightened to death of falling, or i've been hopelessly lost on a journey and unable to get my bearings. . now with being submerged and surrendered to a journey not of my choosing, having to go where the waves take me. I think there's a leather couch in a nearby office with my name on it!!!
So, its Easter Sunday morning - very early. . i should be in bed asleep! My thoughts are churning as much as the water in my dreams, keeping me awake. I've been trying to pray but i'm too antsy. . . i had to write this. Maybe this is a way to pray? think things through, sort stuff out.
Aside from the whole spring renewal, baby chicks, easter bunny, eggs both real and candy, lamb with mint sauce, buns with crosses, ham dinner, new clothes, going to church stuff, this year I'm really trying to ask myself "What is all this stuff that we do?"
When I was a kid it was all about the excitement of the Easter Bunny hiding all those sugary goodies. The anticipation of the hunt, the pastel-coloured, woven treat-holding baskets, the gorging on chocolate, marshmallow and jelly beans! Kid heaven!!! It was also the new Easter dress, hat, white gloves, white patent leather shoes to wear to church, where I heard words like sin, Jesus, cross, mercy, grave, risen, Redeemer, forgiveness, salvation, everlasting life. I was familiar with these words, i knew the sound of them, but I'm afraid that they took a back seat to Laura Secord cream eggs and my newest spring outfit. The purple words were all way over my head.
Fast forward through the decades. . i played Easter Bunny to my own kids, dyed eggs with food colouring, bought those baskets, the girlie outfits, hid the candy eggs, decorated the house with spring flowers, toasted hot cross buns for breakfast, dressed the girls and went to church.
Now I've lived enough to know more than the sound of those words, but I've become familiar with how they feel to me. My feelings however go up and down like the thermometer during the transition between seasons. But the purple words don't take a back seat to the former things, or do they? The money I've spent this week on food for 'the feast', the money I plunked down at the hand-made chocolate shop, the fresh cut flowers, the potted lily, the little gifts for the grandkids, the menu planning. I wonder, have I gotten it yet? I'm middle aged for crying in the sink! but I sometimes I don't really think its sunk in?
I went to a nearby church on "Good Friday". . . a day that can hardly be called 'good', but maybe "Good Came From That Friday"? I had taken Thursday off in order to run around and get 'stuff' for the big event -- so it was quite a gearing down the next morning when I entered a darkened, hushed room with all its candle-lit 'stations'. I sat in quietness with other strangers as i moved from one display to the next. I began by staring at 30 pieces of silver - coins spilled out on a cloth-lined table. I thought of betrayal . I thought of my own fickleness. Next I touched some rough, splintered pieces of wood and winced as i thought of how it felt to lie against that wood. I held cold metal spikes in my hand and hefted a mallet. I thought of how much it hurt if a tiny needle entered my skin, couldn't imagine this spike. I ate a piece of bread and took a sip of grape juice - thought of his body, broken for us and his blood shed. I took some strips of muslin fabric in my hands and rubbed them together - grave clothes - i smelled the myrrh, put some in the palm of my hand. Pictured 75 pounds of this used to embalm his body. . this was the amount used for a royal burial in those days -- how ironic after his criminal's death.
When I sat at each station and thought about all these parts of his whole death process, I began to feel the weight of the purple words becoming a reality and felt them overshadow my trip to the chocolate shop and felt them dwarf the grocery run and eclipse the balloons and the stuffed toy rabbits -- as i thought of such merciful, selfless bravery and hard core compassion -- i felt once more over my head. I came to a torn curtain, hanging between flood-lit pillars and i tried to imagine the sound of the ripping of that heavy temple curtain that separated the 'holy of holies' from the common area -- i thought of what this meant. . no more separation between God and us. Last, I came to a small cross, draped in scarlet cloth, from which hung a crown of thorns --at the base of which lay a crossbeam, a bucket of small nails, black pieces of paper, pencils and a hammer. This was my cross. I was invited to write down something I felt that I was willing to surrender, then lay it on the wood and pound it in. I sat there for a while. What could i possibly write on that black piece of paper? And if i DID write down something, would i really be honest about it? I thought of wanting to be real and feel something more about Easter than all that stuff we've all made it into. I thought of those purple words that have always been in my head, but did they really make the journey down to my heart yet? Sometimes i think they have, but then other times I worry that I don't have the slightest clue how heavily beautiful they are and I don't understand them. I sat some more. At last I got up and took a pencil in hand, knelt by the bucket of nails, wrote "myself" on the paper and nailed it to the 'cross' in 3 strikes of the hammer. Its not that I thought of me hanging on a cross, but rather of me being willing to symbolically promise my everything to the one would did not hesitate to literally give his everything for me. Once more I felt over my head - but isn't that really what i wanted? Real? not candy? not flowers or baked goods? not buying things? not stuffed toys? not even church attendance or Bible verses? but me flooded over by the reality of his depth of mercy?
I used to belong to a beautiful choir. We sang this song, or rather 'they' sang it, because I don't think I ever sang a note . It always made me cry. . .the haunting tune ebbing and flowing like ocean swells, the words cut me down. I cried for my badness and for his goodness that swallowed it up:
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forbear? me the chief of sinners spare?
I have long withstood His grace, long provoked Him to his face,
Would not harken to his calls, grieved him by a thousand falls.
Depth of mercy can there be? Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forebear? Me the chief of sinners spare?
Whence to me this waste of love? Ask my advocate above.
See the cause in Jesus' face, now before the throne of grace.
There for me a Saviour stands, show His wounds and spreads His hands
God is love, I know, I feel. . . Jesus lives and loves me still.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
got your back
Walking on a sunny Sunday -- its so special, somehow different from walking on other days of the week. Perhaps its because this day has long been set apart as sacred - though to me any day is such. Perhaps its because of all days in my neighbourhood, its the one day in which I meet up with more people to talk and spend time developing our neighbourly relationships? I guess its all that and more.
Today is one such idyllic blue-sky day. The kind you faithfully anticipate through all the grey and cloud and cold. The kind of which you try to make the most when it graces the week with its longed-for presence. The kind which draws Canadians out of their homes and fills their lungs with fresher air, inspires them to work the earth again, excites them to retrieve bikes, skateboards and rollerblades from their winter storage. You know this kind of day? You do, I know.
Today i walked for 1 1/2 hours. . i am a bit behind the times, so I borrowed my daughter's cast-off discman to help me out and I popped in one of the great CDs from this awesome band: http://www.downhere.com
I strode great strides, keeping time with the music. I straightened myself up to full height, pulled in my abs and walked with intensity and joy. There's something about walking, do you know what I mean? You see so much more detail than you would with speedier means of transport. Your senses are firing. . i think this is my favourite thing -- every few steps bring a different smell, loamy earth, fabric softener smell from dryer vents, sawdust from workshops, cooking and bbq aromas, acrid, peppery fertilizer odours from lawn-serviced yards. Sight. . there's lots to look at. . dogs, cats, squirrels, ponies. Yes, a young woman walked past our house yesterday with her Shetland on a leash!!! Sunlight and shadows shifting over the forest floor, over the pavement, over the houses, clouds dotting the blue, traveling with the wind. Feeling the air on your skin, the sun warming you, the wind lifting your hair and billowing your jacket. . Some of my thoughts were on the music, but other thoughts are playing around the edges of the melody, so I let them do their thing.
I did focus them for a while on a young family in the park. Mom, Dad, 2 kids. . an older girl and a younger boy - both on bicycles, one parent behind each. I gave them a wide berth, and I switched from the winding path to the adjacent forest. They had some serious kid business to attend to, the business of learning to ride a bike! Mom and son stayed behind me, doing practice circles. . while Dad and daughter kicked it up a notch and rode the path. She pedaled with this exultant, "Look!!! I'm riding a bike!!" expression on her face. Dad ran proudly behind, holding the grab bar at the back of her seat. We shadowed each other for quite a while, them on the paved path, me wending the higher path through the trees. It was really touching to see. . When she sped up, Dad ran behind. When she slowed down, Dad walked. Then, as she got clipping along, Dad let go. . . she didn't notice at first, but then she glanced back and saw him, then she wobbled and cried out. . and Dad ran to her aid, stopped her, talked to her and then gave her a pat on the helmet and they started up again with Dad at her back.
That was quite a thing to see. Such a picture of love and support. I went back in my mind to when our girls were little. . we did the same thing. . teaching, helping, showing, running behind and I thought also of me and God. . . I'm on the bike, he's running behind. I noticed with the dad and daughter that he didn't sit on a bench and read a paper and expect her to learn on her own. . . i noticed that he didn't start her off and then leave her. . . i noticed that even when he did let go, it was to help her become independent and when she got scared, he wasn't far and he ran right to her when she called him. I'm so glad I was able to witness that. I took a great lesson from that scene. . . my unwitting teachers will never know it, but I know it and God does too. Anything that helps me have a clearer picture of what he's like, helps me. That's something i could never learn sitting in a pew. . .shifting and yawning while someone talks at me. I need to see things - and today i saw an amazing thing, at which point i could almost hear God tell me: "That's you and me, Kathy. . . . I've got your back."
Today is one such idyllic blue-sky day. The kind you faithfully anticipate through all the grey and cloud and cold. The kind of which you try to make the most when it graces the week with its longed-for presence. The kind which draws Canadians out of their homes and fills their lungs with fresher air, inspires them to work the earth again, excites them to retrieve bikes, skateboards and rollerblades from their winter storage. You know this kind of day? You do, I know.
Today i walked for 1 1/2 hours. . i am a bit behind the times, so I borrowed my daughter's cast-off discman to help me out and I popped in one of the great CDs from this awesome band: http://www.downhere.com
I strode great strides, keeping time with the music. I straightened myself up to full height, pulled in my abs and walked with intensity and joy. There's something about walking, do you know what I mean? You see so much more detail than you would with speedier means of transport. Your senses are firing. . i think this is my favourite thing -- every few steps bring a different smell, loamy earth, fabric softener smell from dryer vents, sawdust from workshops, cooking and bbq aromas, acrid, peppery fertilizer odours from lawn-serviced yards. Sight. . there's lots to look at. . dogs, cats, squirrels, ponies. Yes, a young woman walked past our house yesterday with her Shetland on a leash!!! Sunlight and shadows shifting over the forest floor, over the pavement, over the houses, clouds dotting the blue, traveling with the wind. Feeling the air on your skin, the sun warming you, the wind lifting your hair and billowing your jacket. . Some of my thoughts were on the music, but other thoughts are playing around the edges of the melody, so I let them do their thing.
I did focus them for a while on a young family in the park. Mom, Dad, 2 kids. . an older girl and a younger boy - both on bicycles, one parent behind each. I gave them a wide berth, and I switched from the winding path to the adjacent forest. They had some serious kid business to attend to, the business of learning to ride a bike! Mom and son stayed behind me, doing practice circles. . while Dad and daughter kicked it up a notch and rode the path. She pedaled with this exultant, "Look!!! I'm riding a bike!!" expression on her face. Dad ran proudly behind, holding the grab bar at the back of her seat. We shadowed each other for quite a while, them on the paved path, me wending the higher path through the trees. It was really touching to see. . When she sped up, Dad ran behind. When she slowed down, Dad walked. Then, as she got clipping along, Dad let go. . . she didn't notice at first, but then she glanced back and saw him, then she wobbled and cried out. . and Dad ran to her aid, stopped her, talked to her and then gave her a pat on the helmet and they started up again with Dad at her back.
That was quite a thing to see. Such a picture of love and support. I went back in my mind to when our girls were little. . we did the same thing. . teaching, helping, showing, running behind and I thought also of me and God. . . I'm on the bike, he's running behind. I noticed with the dad and daughter that he didn't sit on a bench and read a paper and expect her to learn on her own. . . i noticed that he didn't start her off and then leave her. . . i noticed that even when he did let go, it was to help her become independent and when she got scared, he wasn't far and he ran right to her when she called him. I'm so glad I was able to witness that. I took a great lesson from that scene. . . my unwitting teachers will never know it, but I know it and God does too. Anything that helps me have a clearer picture of what he's like, helps me. That's something i could never learn sitting in a pew. . .shifting and yawning while someone talks at me. I need to see things - and today i saw an amazing thing, at which point i could almost hear God tell me: "That's you and me, Kathy. . . . I've got your back."
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
great big sea
I miss the sound . I can't sleep tonight for thinking of it. . wusssssssshhhhhhh. . . . . . . . . wussssshhhhhhhhh. . . . . . like the ocean is breathing. . in and out, in and out. I was lying there in bed thinking of this. The briney taste on my lips and the sting in my eyes (okay, not so pleasant). I miss all that water. . As Rob and I both draped our arms over our floating mat and kicked our legs in lazy circles below us I remember the feeling of bobbing up and down on the swelling waves -- I said to him: "You know, I feel like a baby." and he gave me the raised brow look. . and i said: "Yes, just like a baby in the womb, floating in warm water, moving when its mother moves." Maybe that seems weird. . but it didn't to me. It was so relaxing. . i kept sighing out the winter until there were no winter sighs left, only "this is great" sighs. When we had enough of the mat, we just swam and I felt even more like this as I put my head back, hugged my knees to my chest and floated . . . almost in disbelief that one day i could be in my little house in Canada, then the next I could be playing waterbaby . I did keep thinking though of aquatic beasties as i cut swaths back and forth out to the white buoy line, or across to the floating trampoline (BIG FUN!!!). I figured, well if i just don't touch bottom and keep swimming i'll be okay? strange, not entirely logical, but it worked i guess? Sometimes i felt something brush past my foot or my leg. . which made my heart jump a bit and I would feel a mini surge of panic!!! Baby indeed!!! Rob seemed to share no such fears (I have enough for the both of us). I thought of sharks and fish -- I pictured seeing a fin. . i pictured Jaws, I could almost anticipate one of them latching onto my leg and pulling me under!!! But I kept telling myself to get a grip!!! I didn't even think of jellyfish until i got back home and my friend Moni mentioned that they could have been in there too!!! ahhhh!!! Now i'm kind of scared after the fact!!! The seaweed grossed me out if i happened to touch my foot down on the sea bed for even a second. . .. i would immediately withdraw it and try to swim until i could feel sand. . no undulating or slimy 'things'.
My inner dialogue went something like this: "Stop it! You're safe. Look at the other swimmers.. look at Rob way out there. . just enjoy this. SWIM!!! You love it!! " and sometimes like this: "Ooooh, the water's colder here, that means its deeper. . . . what's under me? AHHHHH I don't like that!!!" Yes, I am a complete contradiction -- floating like a contented baby one minute, and jittery with fear of the unknown the next!!! Its odd when you think about it. . we're not made to exist in the watery domain, but we visit it in body or with some kind of device or equipment. How great is that? I could have swum in the pool, but its so artificial - its not alive, it had no waves - it was too dull and safe - not many heart skipping moments to be had in there, unless maybe you saw something brown floating your way?!!!
At one point I suggested to Rob that we should sit close to the shore. . cuz i did that when i was a kid and I loved getting tossed around by the waves pounding the shoreline. Yeah. . . . we did this -- sat upon the sand at the water's edge. . it was a strong surf that day and did we ever get tossed around, dragged out with the pull of the tide, completely helpless. . laughing and acting like morons, getting sand in places you don't want sand!!! When suddenly one rogue wave pushed Rob back and dragged him forward, causing him to scrape his sunburned back along the gritty shore - at which point he kinda bellowed out in pain. He looked hilarious though, with his long legs going different directions!!! That was it for him! I gave up too, cuz its no fun being an idiot by yourself!
I do miss that rushing sound -- i slept like . . . . a BABY!! when we were there. It was that sound. . there's something very soothing about its rhythm. Very primeval, very natural, very calming. . Maybe if i got myself a CD 'ocean sounds' recording?! I think I will! Why don't you try it too? It will remind you of past trips to the sea!!! (which you know that you always miss when you have to leave). Do you have any sea memories you'd like to share? I'd love to hear them!
Monday, April 03, 2006
ahhhhhh
don't you love this? i'm so sad to leave it behind. Rob took this photo. We swam in this every day.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
The tourqouise sea
I am so full of stories to tell. . . but I'm really tired. 7 days in Cancun can do wonders, but long flight delays and a missed night's sleep also do things. . . . blah. .
The ocean, the white sand, the hotness of the air, the Mayan ruins. . . I will post some pictures! I've missed you all!!
I miss the ocean now!!!!
WAAAA!!!!
The ocean, the white sand, the hotness of the air, the Mayan ruins. . . I will post some pictures! I've missed you all!!
I miss the ocean now!!!!
WAAAA!!!!
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